Breaking Normality
by Jasmine Winter
Summary: Hermione Granger enters her sixth year at Hogwarts with a strange feeling that something big is about to happen- a pivotal moment in her life. However, she was never expecting that moment to be shared with a certain Slytherin... Dramione, of course. Quite a slow-burning romance and a lot of development. Lots of action towards the end... give it a chance?
1. First Encounters

**Ok, here it is! My first ever chapter! If you happen to come across this story, and you quite like it, please review or recommend it or whatever. I am completely new to this but I'm so excited to get stuck right in. Well, I don't really have much else to say. Here goes. Enjoy :)  
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1\. First Encounters

Hermione Granger stepped onto platform 9¾ without the usual feeling of excitement bubbling in her stomach. Instead, she felt a certain anticipation as she stopped and waited for the oncoming train that would all too soon come into view, ready to whisk her away to a world where she was no longer considered an outsider. At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she could openly be herself. She no longer had to hide away her differences, pretend like she was 'normal'. Somewhere in the world, she was accepted; because at Hogwarts, you could be what it was not possible to be in the normal world- the 'muggle' world- and no one would judge you for it. Supposedly.

That's what Hermione had believed throughout her first year at the school, and her first year as a witch. Coming from a muggle background, she'd found it hard to fit in there when she knew inwardly that she wasn't like the other children, or even her own parents- the good old faithful dentists. She was special, and at Hogwarts, she found she could finally express herself in every aspect; minus a few hindrances in the form of stuck up pure-bloods who thought muggle-borns had no right to be of magical ethnicity.

However, this year- her sixth at Hogwarts- she was finally starting to consider the fact that the school may no longer be the safe haven for all magic folk she had once upon a time believed it to be. No longer was it secure, certainly not after the multiple infiltrations by Death Eaters such as Barty Crouch Jr. or Peter Pettigrew. Danger was finding its way inside the building in many different forms, slipping through the cracks, barely whispers in the shadows. The wizarding world was becoming a darker place, and as she grew older, Hermione found she could see through the veil of false security more vividly than ever. This year was certainly going to be a lot different.

The sound of the train wheels emitting an ear-splitting screech as they skidded to a halt on the tracks was what jolted Hermione to her senses. Despite staring mystified at the Hogwarts Express for at least a minute, she had failed to compute the fact that the train had rolled pleasantly up to the station and was now patiently waiting for students to board it. Shaking her head, Hermione pulled her woollen jacket straighter, smoothed down her acid wash jeans and reached to grab her rather ginormous suitcase which stood beside her just a couple of inches below her height of 5'5''. Her wand was already neatly tucked away in the waistband of her jeans, but unfortunately she hadn't been able to take her cat, Crookshanks, to the station after insisting she travelled alone this year. Despite wishing her parents were by her side to wave her off like they usually did, Hermione was glad they weren't present as that meant she didn't have them to worry about on top of everything else.

Sighing, she began to haul the suitcase towards the open doors of the waiting train in short bursts by dragging the mammoth trunk across the platform an inch at a time. It was tiring work: the broken buckles lining the side of it kept slapping cruelly against her arm, and the case itself kept tilting at odd angles due to fact the bottom left corner was slightly more worn, making it unbalanced. It had been easy bringing the case to platform 9¾ and through Central Station with the help of a suitcase trolley. But the trolley had had to be left at the entrance for safety purposes, or else the entire platform would have been littered with them as all the other Hogwarts students struggled profusely with their own suitcases.

Hermione grunted with the effort as she continued to pull her bag along. If only you were allowed to use magic outside of school grounds- then she could have levitated the case all the way into a train compartment. But no, rules were rules, no matter how much she ridiculed them. This particular rule did irritate her quite a lot, as surely someone unlikely to cause trouble, such as a prefect, could use magic as soon as they were out of a muggle's sight? Maybe that was an idea she could present to the heads of house at the next house meeting, since she was, in fact, a prefect. She had been appointed the position at the beginning of her fifth year, and would continue to be so right up until the end of school.

Smiling to herself, Hermione finally managed to get her bag onto the train by jumping on first then pulling her suitcase in behind her with enough momentum to almost send her tumbling backwards against the doors of a nearby compartment. Glancing up, she could see many other students suffering the same problems, some with even more bags and cages for their pets, although they did have friends, parents, and siblings old enough to use magic to help them. It was the first time Hermione had really taken in her surroundings, and in surprise she noticed how crowded and flustered the platform had become in a matter of minutes. She had arrived early in order to get an empty compartment, but it looked as though many other students all had the same idea. Now, the entire place was heaving as more and more students appeared through the walls in a steady stream.

The fusillade of shouts and screams and whistles blowing grew even louder as Hermione began her search for an empty compartment. Luckily, she found one merely a few steps down the corridor from where she boarded the train. Hurriedly, she shoved her suitcase inside and slammed the glass door closed, blocking out all the unwelcome noise behind her. Perfect. That was all she needed. Some peace and quiet.

'Hermione!' Someone yelled her name in a somewhat lively tone, and then proceeded to rap harshly against the glass of the compartment door. _Peace and quiet- in my dreams_ , Hermione thought to herself as she rolled her eyes before turning slowly to face her friends Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, who stood out in the corridor, huge smiles of excitement plastered on their faces. It was Harry who, at that moment, slid the door back open, letting the tidal wave of chaos wash back over her.

'Hey,' Hermione greeted as her friends shuffled in and quickly stored their suitcases away in the overhead compartments, including Hermione's.

'Whoa, Hermione,' Harry puffed as he lifted her case up and slotted it away. 'What do you have in there?'

'Oh, quite a lot as I only brought one case,' Hermione explained, settling herself by the window. She looked up at Harry, who came to sit opposite her, and quirked an eyebrow. 'The books will weigh quite a bit too.'

'Bloody hell,' Ron exclaimed, plonking himself down beside Harry. He scratched his bright orange hair as he stared at Hermione in amazement. 'How did you manage to fit everything in that thing? I've got my mum to bring more cases at half term full of all my winter stuff, and even then I would've packed more if I'd had the room.'

'I do have the room,' Hermione continued. 'I used an undetectable extension charm, so, everything fits in one case,' she paused and smiled at Ron and Harry's blank expressions. 'What?' she cried innocently. 'It's practical.'

'You,' Ron started, 'are amazing.' He threw his arms up in a rather dramatic display of disbelief. 'Why didn't I think of something like that? You're so clever- it's annoying. Wait-, ' he stopped suddenly, looking as startled as a rabbit caught in headlights. 'Are you allowed to do something like that?'

Hermione rolled her eyes for the second time. 'Does it matter, Ron? It's undetectable!'

'Since when did you become all rebellious?' Ron questioned, leaning forward to slap her knee in a playful gesture. 'Does it matter? I though you lived by the rules.'

'Of course I'm allowed,' Hermione shot back, although, thinking about it, she wasn't quite sure. 'I'm a prefect, remember.'

Ron's face darkened at that, which made Hermione frown. What had she said? 'Yeah, I'm aware,' he said bluntly. 'I'm one too, remember that? But what I don't remember is being told the rules don't apply to me...'

'Ron, what is it with you? Why are you mad at me all of a sudden?' Hermione demanded, folding her arms. She was tempted to roll her eyes again, but she was pretty sure that would just anger Ron more now that he was- unusually- in a bad mood.

'I'm not,' Ron scowled, mimicking Hermione's movements by crossing his arms over his chest as well.

'Well, your tone of voice say's differently,' Hermione scowled back. 'Honestly, Ron, I've no idea why you're like this. What have I done now?'

'Nothing! Like I said, I'm fine, I'm not in a mood' Ron repeated. 'I was just thinking of something, that's all.'

'Oh?' Hermione said, one eyebrow raised. She leaned forward onto her knees, staring at Ron with her big, soft brown eyes. 'And, what were you thinking of?' When Ron didn't reply, she took a deep breath, and tried again. You had to be patient with Ron. 'Clearly, something is bothering you. Harry and I, we're your friends, so you can tell us.'

'What?' Harry said suddenly, looking up from the coin he'd been spinning repeatedly on the table by the window, oblivious to his friends bickering. 'What's up?'

'Oh, for god's sake, it's nothing. I just hate it when Hermione's all like "I'm a prefect and I can do whatever I want bla-bla-bla". It's so Slytherin.' Ron blurted, slumping back in his seat and shrugging at Harry who was looking at him slightly baffled.

'It is not,' Hermione glared. 'I am nothing like a Slytherin, Ron, how dare you say that about me!' She wondered what had brought all this on. Ron was always in an unpredictable mood, but it was usually due to his family- Percy, for example- or the Quidditch scores, or the teacher's he hated. It was rare he would start directing his aggression towards her. But clearly, she had ticked him off, because now he was comparing her to a Slytherin, of all people!

'I can say whatever the hell I want!' Ron cried, jumping angrily from his seat. Hermione rose with him, also fuming and wearing the same, heated expression.

'Oh, stop being so childish,' Hermione snapped in retort, her eyes- usually warm and gentle- flashing dangerously. 'I've just about had enough of you already, and the train hasn't even set off yet.' Ron opened his mouth the reply, probably by firing another insult, but Hermione cut him off. 'No, Ronald, I no longer care to hear what you have to say. Get changed,' she snapped, turning curtly to snatch up her school robes, which were already folded neatly besides where she had been sitting just moments before (she had removed them from the front pocket of her suitcase before storing it earlier). 'We have a meeting in the prefect's compartment at the head of the train,' she continued, stalking to the door. As she slid it open, she looked back over her shoulder. 'Or, did you forget your duties? I really hope you'll be there, because I _live_ by the rules, and I'd hate for you to exploit them,' she finished, turning away once more with a flick of her fluffy brown hair.

She stepped out without another word, making sure to slam the door firmly behind her. Taking a deep breath, she was just about head off down the corridor, when she paused, and quickly slid the door open again to where Ron and Harry stood speechless, their mouths gaping open. Looking directly past Ron, Hermione gave Harry the biggest, warmest smile she could conjure. 'Bye, Harry,' she said, still smiling sweetly.

Harry blinked once. 'Bye...?' he started, but once again Hermione slammed the compartment door, letting it bang loudly once more. This time, she turned on her heel and sped off, without looking back. 'Hmmm,' Harry muttered to himself after a few long, tense seconds of silence. He scratched his scar nervously. 'Can't say I've missed this...'

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'Ron is such an asshole,' Hermione hissed to herself, enraged, as she tried to desperately tug on her tights in the cramped toilet she had decided to change in, since she didn't feel like being all communal back in the compartment, and she hadn't spotted Ginny or any of her other friends in the other compartments on her way to the head of the train. 'I didn't even do anything wrong,' she continued to herself, still tugging desperately on the tights, which seemed intent on getting stuck over her knees.

'Oh, damn these stupid tights,' Hermione cursed, pulling on them so hard she toppled back against the sink. 'Ouch,' she hissed. 'Ok, ok, calm down, Hermione,' she told herself sternly, sitting down with a flop on the toilet seat. She forced herself to sit a few seconds before attempting to pull the tights the rest of the way over her thighs slowly and carefully. After that, she quickly slipped on her compulsory black pleated skirt and buckled shoes, then stood and smoothed down her clothes, spinning to face the small mirror that hung just above the sink, which was smothered in fingerprints and a smear of lipstick in the top right corner. _Lipstick_ , Hermione thought to herself as she fixed her tie- gold and red stripes, the colours of Gryffindor. She smiled pitifully at her reflection, who smiled pitifully back. _Who is there to impress at school enough to need lipstick?_

Sighing, for what felt the hundredth time that day, Hermione made some final adjustments to her uniform before stepping back out into the corridor...smack into Ron, who ran straight into her with a cry of surprise.

'Hermione,' he gasped. 'I'm sorry,' he said, stumbling backwards in a daze.

'Don't worry, I didn't see you either,' she replied in a monotone voice, pursing her lips before removing a strand of hair that had blown into her face during the collision.

'No, not about that,' Ron rushed, his cheeks glowing with a red tinge. 'About earlier, it was out of order. Actually, it was just plain rude of me, and Harry and I talked and I realised- '

Hermione held up a hand for silence. 'Save it,' she snapped. 'Just...save it.'

'Hermione...' Ron started again, stepping forward, but she stepped back a pace just as he did.

'Come on,' she said plainly, beginning to walk off. 'We're both late now.'

'Oh...' Ron groaned. 'I am such an idiot,' he whined, smacking his hand against his forehead before trailing after his friend, who strutted on ahead. As he began to walk, the train decided it was a good time to set off. So, with another screech of its wheels the sharp shriek of a bell, it pulled forward abruptly, causing Ron to fall against Hermione's back yet again. 'Bloody hell...sorry,' he cried again, quickly pulling back to regain his balance. The train was now rolling forwards out of the station at a much smoother pace, although Hermione hadn't turned when he fell on her, she just continued walking, blatantly ignoring him.

She kept walking all the way to the prefect's compartment, where she finally stopped to slide open the door and march inside, Ron slipping in after her, head bowed.

'Sorry we're late,' Hermione called out in a clear voice, announcing their presence to the rest of the students gathered in the spacious area. Her eyes trailed over the interior of the compartment, which was much the same it was last time she had been in it, however it still managed to make her smile. The first time she'd had a prefect meeting, she had arrived so accustomed to years of the scratchy tartan seats, broken doors and flip up tables that seeing a compartment four times the size with lush, leather seating, a large mahogany table crowded with tea and cakes and lights with light intensity settings was almost unreal.

Everyone was already there when she and Ron entered: Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff were together by the window, Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil sat opposite sporting their shiny Ravenclaw badges, and Pansy Parkinson hung on the edge of her seat as far from Ernie as she could possibly sit, alone. _Correction_ , Hermione thought, _everyone is here but Draco_. This didn't surprise her, considering the Slytherins didn't seem to take their prefect duties all too seriously, instead deciding to exploit their power by never showing up to meetings and bullying the younger students into doing as they said. Hermione was even mildly impressed to see that Pansy had shown up at all, even though it was mandatory. In her opinion, Slytherins shouldn't even be given the positions, but Snape was grossly fond of his little serpentine slaves who found joy in deducting as many points from the other houses as possible and making people cry.

As usual, Professor McGonagall was stood by the compartment door as Hermione and Ron stepped through, a stack of parchment in her hands. 'Gryffindor,' McGonagall stated, addressing Hermione and Ron collectively by their house name as they arrived. 'You're later than usual, but no matter, the meeting has just started. Come in, come in,' she beckoned, passing them each a piece of parchment which contained a long list of all the events that would take place of the course of the coming term.

Hermione took her place next to Padma, and Ron followed cautiously, scooting silently in beside her as she exchanged greetings with the Ravenclaw prefects and smiled across to the Hufflepuffs. She began to scan through the list she was given as everyone got settled, and McGonagall slid the compartment door closed.

'Tea, Ronald?' McGonagall offered, waving a hand towards the cup set in front of him that was full to the brim of the steaming hot drink.

'Um, thank you, Professor,' Ron said with a weak smile, reaching for the cup and taking a huge gulp. His eyes bulged as he set it down again. 'Ow,' he whispered to himself, licking his lips profusely, 'hot.'

'Careful,' McGonagall said with a wry smile in his direction, 'it's quite hot. Anyway,' she continued, turning to face the rest of the prefects, 'down to business. Could you all please take a look at the schedule for the first week of term- '

Suddenly, there was a bang as the compartment door was thrown open so violently it caused McGonagall to jump and Ron to spill his tea over his robes. Hermione's head snapped up from the parchment she was scanning to see Draco Malfoy storm into the room, head bowed and hands shoved in his pockets. Without even a quick glance up he took a couple of massive strides to slide into the seat besides Pansy, who looked genuinely shocked to see him. His legs seemed to eat up the floor as he walked over, Hermione noted, and she wondered when he had got so tall.

McGonagall didn't utter a word as Draco took his seat, she only handed him the parchment she'd given to everyone else in silence, her lips drawn in a thin line. He snatched it from her grasp with long, spidery fingers, eventually looking up to read it with a grimace. He could have been beautiful if his grey eyes weren't so flat and dull, and his lips weren't stuck in a permanent scowl. Although, since fifth year, he had changed his hair from greasily scraped back to messily pushed forward, plus it appeared to be cleaner and somehow, not as stark white as it once was. This was a relief, because Hermione didn't think she could stand staring another minute at Draco's unearthly pallid skin tone and snow-white hair combination. His complexion literally made her feel unwell. Was he actually permanently ill or was it just the pallor of being a sickly little ferret? Not that she cared.

McGonagall cleared her throat. 'As I was saying...' she began, before launching into her usual prefect speech on the term's activities and guiding the first years. Normally, Hermione would be intently listening at this point, perched on the edge of her seat absorbing every little bit of information McGonagall spoke. Last year she had been so proud of her prefect role, and had taken it very seriously. For some reason, however, this year she felt different.

It was still a nice feeling to be elected, yes, and of course she still wanted to help people and keep the school organised but...this time round she felt less inclined to dedicate her entire school life to her work and her duties. Shouldn't she be making the most of her friends and privileges this year? After all, it could be the last full school year she spent at Hogwarts, what with all that was going on in the wizarding world. _That's a terrifying thought_ , Hermione deliberated, chewing absently on a strand of her hair as she gazed past McGonagall, ignorant to her words. In a year, or even less than a year, the world as she knew it could have completely changed- and everything and everyone she loved could become part of the chaos. _Yes_ , she confirmed to herself. _This year, I'm going to let loose and be less of the 'insufferable little know-it-all' I know I am._

'Alright, that's everything I needed to discuss with you,' McGonagall said, concluding her speech. 'Thank you for the suggestions Ravenclaw, I'll consider your opinions,' she carried on, nodding at the two students behind Hermione, but not before she gave her a quick, questioning look. 'If anyone has any questions you can just come up and ask me. You're all welcome to stay and help yourself to the selection of food we have here, and I'll be back in a moment.' And with that McGonagall was out the compartment with a sweep of her emerald green cloak.

As soon as she was out of sight Hermione didn't hesitate to leap up and head for the door. She really didn't feel like staying, although she would have usually stayed and sat with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to catch up and discuss their prefect roles. Out of the corner of her eye she could also see Ron- who she had just climbed over to escape- reaching for a plate of jam tarts positioned at the centre of the table. Clearly, he was going to hang back, either because he knew Hermione wouldn't want him around or because of his love of food. Either way, it didn't matter to Hermione. She just wanted some alone time.

Once she got to the door, she tried tugging it open, but found it was somehow jammed. 'What in the world,' she muttered, spinning right into someone as she turned to ask for help. Startled, she tripped to the side, an apologetic look on her face as she turned to face the person who was stood behind her. Her expression immediately darkened when she realised she was facing Draco.

'Having problems, Granger?' he smirked, stepping forwards for his attempt at jerking the jammed door ajar.

'Oh, shut up, Malfoy,' Hermione spat back, watching as his arm muscles flexed and strained as he pulled against the handle, which must have really been wedged in position. After a few attempts, he was successful in prizing the door wide enough for someone to slip through.

He turned back to Hermione, pushing a loose strand of blonde hair out of his eyes, and gesturing to the gap with a sweep of his arm. 'After you,' he said mockingly.

Hermione pulled a face and stalked from the room as quickly as she could, not bothering to fire another insult at Draco again. She really couldn't be bothered to acknowledge the fact he had just bettered her at door opening. Peace and quiet: that was the ultimate goal.

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 **Next chapter coming soon!**


	2. The Vanishing Cabinet

**Hello again! So, I decided to post the second chapter the day after the first, just to get the ball rolling with this story. So far, it's been so much fun to write, and I already have loads of different ideas about where to take things (although I usually have very basic plans for my stories- I tend to make things up as I got along, that way it's also exciting for me to see what will happen next).**

 **Also, shout out to lilyflower49, JuliSt and vampireknight11- thank you so much for reviewing! Anyway, I think from now on I'm more likely to post chapters weekly, as I am quite weighed down with schoolwork at the moment, and I need some time to think more carefully about each chapter. Though on this occasion I felt the need to write some more immediately! Tell me what you think :)**

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2\. The Vanishing Cabinet

Peace and quiet never really happened. The rest of the day passed so quickly, Hermione felt as if she herself were a train, blurring past life without so much as a proper glance, and not before too long, every moment was far behind her. She vaguely remembered arriving at Hogwarts, escorting the first years to the Great Hall, and the grand meal that followed- though she didn't eat much of it. She had laughed with her friends and talked about the summer, but none of the conversations she could remember. All she could recall was that she had been happy, and yet sad, all at the same time.

She wasn't sure if she still felt that same, confusing mix of emotions- even at the current moment in time as she lay sprawled across the arm of one of the sofas in the Gryffindor common room. Ginny was slumped closest to her, her face hidden beneath a curtain of thick, ginger hair as she snored softly to herself, fast asleep. Harry and Ron were sat facing them on the opposing sofa, surrounded by a group of boys- including Neville and Seamus- who all appeared to be laughing at some comedic article in the Daily Prophet. Ron had been avoiding her all evening, or was it Hermione who had been avoiding him? Either way, she wasn't ready to forgive him for his ridiculous outburst earlier: Ron could get mad, but Hermione could definitely hold a grudge.

With Ginny out cold and the boys distracted, Hermione found herself feeling rather bored. She knew she could read- a book was likely to engage her and take her mind off things- but for some reason she couldn't find the strength to actually get up and find one. Of course, there were loads lying around, but none to her level of intellect. Then there was the Daily Prophet: copies of the most recent edition were strewn all over the room, however all the stories were the same these days. There was nothing to talk about. Just anticipation.

What Hermione really wanted was to move her legs, which were stiff from being curled up in the same, awkward position for at least an hour. With a yawn, she rose slowly to her feet, ignoring her knees as they protested with a click. 'Gross,' she cringed as she began to tip-toe off to the portrait, amazed that no one even noticed her departure- not even Harry. She had finally decided to go on a small walk around to clear her head, and possibly escort any lost pupils should she come across any.

Once she was out in the corridor she realised how stuffy it must have been in the common room; outside of it the air was much cooler and a refreshing change to the oppressive atmosphere she had just experienced. The candles that lined the stone walls were very dimly lit, providing just enough light to cast a faint glow across the floor. Most of the corridor was bathed in shadow, as many of the candles had been blown out since it was so late in the evening. There were, however, still enough to see where you were going. Even if it did get too dark, Hermione had brought her wand with her- which was now stashed securely in her robes- to use if she needed.

As she began to walk, she also wondered if this had been a good idea. There was no specific rule saying you weren't allowed out in the corridors late- and she was a prefect- but she couldn't help feeling uneasy. It was too quiet. A refreshing change to the bustling Gryffindor common room, yes, but it was quiet enough to make Hermione's breath sound like thunder to her ears. Regardless of her strange unease, she walked on, picking up her pace and wrapping her arms round her torso as if they offered her extra protection. There was no denying it: this year Hermione was certainly more superstitious than previously. But then again, everyone was.

After hurrying down what felt like hundreds of corridors (though she had probably only been walking for 10 minutes or so), Hermione finally slowed down a rather short corridor which was almost completely black. The only way Hermione could see was due to the mauve light of the moon which shone in through the arched windows lining the left wall. The opposite wall was bare of ornaments, but every meter or so along it there stood a wide, stone pillar which measured about a metre in width, also. Hermione was feeling less apprehensive compared to when she had left the common room, and was grateful for the first opportunity to clear her head and have a little time to herself since the beginning of the day. Just as she was about to turn right down the next corridor and head back to bed, however, she heard footsteps. Quick, sharp footsteps that echoed with every step, coming steadily closer from down the corridor adjacent to where she stood.

In panic, she leapt behind the closets pillar and pressed her back up against it, suddenly fearful of being caught wandering around so late again. She sucked in a breath as a tall figure swept by where she was hidden, melting as far into the shadows as she possibly could. Luckily, they didn't seem to acknowledge her presence, rushing onwards with a sense of urgency, as if they had somewhere important to be. Hermione could instantly tell who it was, even in the dimness, for the whitish hair that hung down over their eyes and their even whiter skin was unmistakable: it was Draco Malfoy.

Her mother once told her curiosity would be her downfall, but Hermione had always thought it a useful skill, to be so inquisitive. She wasn't so sure now, as she peeled herself away from the wall and slipped after Draco, keeping to the shadows. A small voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to stop. Whatever Draco was up to, it was probably none of her business, and she probably didn't want to know. However, no matter how much she felt she should stop, it didn't make any difference. Curiosity flooded through her veins and fuelled her rapidly thumping heart. She followed Draco as if in a trance, like she wasn't even able to control her own body. It kept moving forwards, smooth and silent as a cat, and she let it.

Draco turned sharply at the end of the corridor, continuing down an even darker hallway, which was useful for Hermione, considering there were no more pillars to dart behind. She made sure she was well behind him as he marched steadily onwards, turning another few times, then ascending a flight of stairs two at a time, his jet black robe billowing out behind him like a crow's outspread wings. He was definitely up to something, because every minute or so he would glance nervously around- to the left and right, and behind- before continuing. Each time he did this Hermione would stop sharply, trying to keep her breathing silent and her body as still as possible. Fortunately, he hadn't seemed to notice her.

And still, after a good five minutes, Draco was unaware he was being followed as he climbed another flight of stairs, getting him to the 7th floor. Here he turned left, giving Hermione a sudden realisation. She knew where he was going, she was absolutely positive. For down the left corridor on the 7th floor was none other than the Room of Requirement. As if confirming her thoughts, Draco drew to a halt as soon as he reached the end of the corridor, between the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and a seemingly bare stone wall. Hermione hovered at the turning to the corridor, waiting.

Just as she expected, Draco began pacing- back and forth, back and forth- three times along the corridor until a great door covered in a dozen swirling metal grids began to appear along the bare wall. In a matter of seconds, the entire door had materialized, and as soon as it had, Draco stopped pacing and tugged it open a few inches, just wide enough to allow him to slip inside. Before he closed the door he looked back down the long corridor once more, this time directly towards Hermione.

With a squeak of surprise she prayed wasn't too loud, she flung herself sideways back towards the stairs and out of view. Heart beating, she waited with baited breath for the sound of footsteps coming towards her. But none came. After she felt she had waiting long enough, she slowly peered back around the corner, finally assured she hadn't been spotted by the fact the wall opposing the tapestry was once again bare. Both Draco and the door had vanished.

'Ok, you can do this,' Hermione muttered to herself as she began to half walk, half run down the corridor to where Draco had been stood minutes before, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silence. As soon as she reached the wall she quickly walked past it three times, which was the number of times requisite to ensure the door appeared. While pacing she thought to herself ' _I need to find out what Draco is up to_ ' repeatedly, and sure enough, after three times back and forth, the door once again melted into existence.

Behind the door, she knew she would find Draco, and whatever he was up too. For some reason this made her oddly nervous, for, although he wasn't the most intimidating person, he could be doing anything in there. He was a Slytherin, and his parents were Death Eaters, she was sure of it. Why Draco was using the room of requirement in the dead of night she had no idea, but one thing she was absolutely certain of was that it wasn't good. Despite this, and her lingering fear, she was desperate to find out. So, pushing her doubts aside, and drawing her wand out at the ready, she took a deep breath and opened the door as quickly as she could, darting inside and closing it with a sharp pull.

Then she stared. Her arm, which had been extended forward as it gripped her wand, dropped to the side as she continued to gape openly. Draco was nowhere to be seen. She had been expecting something terrible, like an army of Death Eaters, or some sort of portal, or Voldemort himself to be stood in the centre of the room with Draco kissing his feet. Not complete emptiness.

All she could see were a couple of broken chairs, a cracked mirror tipped on its side, and various other pieces of old furniture, all covered in a blanket of dust and stringy cobwebs. The room she remembered from the DA meetings was long and narrow with a great fireplace on the far wall and candelabras decorating the high ceiling. This room was entirely different: it was slightly wider, but only marginally, and ended only a few feet away. The light was much dingier, and seemed to come from nowhere in particular, and it stank. The air was thick and humid, a foul smell of rot and mould that filled Hermione's nostrils and made her want to choke. Nevertheless, it wasn't any of this that really bothered Hermione. Her main concern was the apparent disappearance of Draco. If he was in here, she would have easily been able to spot him, for there was no place to hide. Every corner of the room was visible, and even the furniture offered little coverage. She had asked the room to show her what Draco was up to, and why else would it give her a disgusting, cramped space filled with dank furniture?

There had to be a reason she was seeing this, and she knew that Draco had to be somewhere. The room was never wrong. _Maybe there's another door somewhere?_ she thought to herself as she began edging further inside, drawing up her wand again. She began feeling along the walls with one hand, keeping her wand grasped tightly in the other, searching frantically for anything- a crack, a dent, a button- that would indicate there was another way out. The stones she ran her hand over were unusually smooth and flattened; as if they had been sanded until there was no uneven surface. No matter how many times she circled the room, she could find no purchase or secret door.

It was hot in the room. A cool sweat had broken out at the hairline on Hermione's forehead and neck. Her hair began to frizz in the heat, and curl where it had gone damp at her temples. She huffed in annoyance as she moved away from the wall and began to examine the furniture piled all over the floor. Everything was broken and empty of anything that would give her clues, such as a pendant or a spell book, or even a strange marking carved into the wood. The only thing that stood out was the largest item in the room, a tall, triangular cabinet of dark oak with a large cloth heaped at its base.

This is what had caught Hermione's eye: the cloth. _Of course_ , she thought to herself. _How could I have been so stupid?_ With another sigh, this time directed towards herself, she rushed over to the cabinet and plucked the cloth from the floor. A cloth which looked as if it had once been covering the cabinet, that someone might have flung off. And that someone, she guessed, was Draco. As she shook the material, she noticed a small slip of parchment that must have been under it fluttering on the floor.

Crouching, she snatched up the parchment and unfolded it eagerly to read what was written. Sure enough, someone had scrawled something across the scrap of paper in black ink. The words read 'Harmonia Nectere Passus'. Hermione frowned as she stood and stared at the cabinet. She glanced back towards the parchment in her hand, then up again, and tried reading what was written out loud.

'Harmonia Nectere Passus,' she called out with as much confidence as she could muster, all the while staring hard at the cabinet. Her voice rang out sharply, resonating around the room, despite it being full of furniture, before silence one again befell. Nothing happened. Hermione's frown deepened, and this time she reached forwards and tugged at the cabinets handle. Locked.

Frustrated, she took her wand and pointed it at the uncooperative lock. 'Alohomora,' she whispered, speaking the unlocking charm she had used many times before from the Book of Spells. Surprisingly, she heard a welcoming click, and then the door creaked open slightly.

'Interesting,' Hermione observed, as she pulled the door fully open to reveal a bare space inside. Although there was no Draco, Hermione was no longer worried. What with the strange charm scrawled on the piece of parchment, and the unusual shaped cabinet, she had a pretty good idea of what this was, and how Draco had managed to disappear, although she didn't like what she was thinking. She had never encountered a Vanishing Cabinet before, she had only read about them. But, the more she thought about it, she realised she had seen pictures of a tall, triangular-like closet, and this matched the description. If she thought hard, she could also remember how they worked.

Vanishing Cabinets allowed a person or an object to travel between two places that could be any distance apart, as long as there was a cabinet at either end. Although Apparition would accomplish the teleportation method without them, Hermione was pretty sure you couldn't Apparate within school grounds, unless you were a teacher. So that meant Draco was using Vanishing Cabinets to leave the school grounds, but why he would do that, Hermione didn't know. To use one, she knew you had to climb inside and speak an incantation, allowing you to travel to the twin cabinet. She also knew that in order for her to find out what Draco was up to; she would have to follow him to his destination.

This was, of course, incredibly dangerous. Draco, due to his family, was in with a bad crowd. Many people he knew were worshipers of Voldemort- so it was highly likely he had gone to some sort of Death Eater meeting. What was more alarming was the fact that the cabinets worked both ways. That meant someone, anyone, could travel back the way he had come, right into the heart of Hogwarts. Hermione knew that she should turn back immediately, find anyone and tell them what she had discovered. But she was in a trance again.

Without thinking she clambered inside the cabinet and swung the door closed with a bang. In an instant she was enveloped in darkness. Surrounding her she could feel the flat wooden panels of the cabinet she was hunched against. All she could hear was the scuffing of her shoes and her quick, panicked breaths. In her hands she still clutched her wand and the now crushed parchment containing the words she needed for this to work. Shakily, she unfolded the paper and flicked her wand, resulting in a flare of light appearing at its tip. Gulping, she once again read out the password that would transport her to the unknown. 'Harmonia Nectere Passus.'

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 **Please review, it means the world to me. More coming next week...**


	3. Borgin And Burkes

**Hello again! Here is chapter 3, this time from someone else's point of view. Don't worry, Hermione will be back in the thick of things shortly, and you'll get to find out where she's been... Thanks to everybody who has followed this story, and please keep reviewing- tell me if I've made a mistake, whether that be a grammatical error or a trivial one. The next chapter will be up next Wednesday, but for now...happy reading :)**

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3\. Borgin and Burkes

Draco emerged from the Vanishing Cabinet, relieved to be free from the cramped space. He was now standing in the back corner of Borgin and Burkes- a dark magic shop located down Knockturn Alley. Now that he was here, the staggering sense of uneasiness he had been experiencing earlier flooded back to him as he forced himself to walk forwards. Getting here he had been feeling more confident, if anything. Once inside the Room of Requirement, he had just got on with preparing the cabinet, and that act of doing something without having to watch his back every five seconds had taken his mind off things. But now he was finally here, and he knew what was going to happen next.

As he walked up to the shop counter, he made sure he was stood tall, with his shoulders pushed back, and that he strode with confidence, although he really felt like curling in on himself and running all the way back to Hogwarts. Anywhere but Borgin and Burkes.

'Draco Malfoy,' said a voice. Draco glanced down to see a rather short, stooped man grinning menacingly at him from behind the counter. He was bald with an odd, egg shaped head, and when he smiled Draco could see he was missing a number of teeth, the rest blackened.

'Yes,' Draco replied, unsure of what else to say. He did not know this strange, little man, but obviously the man knew him. Of course, this was expected. _He_ was expected. The man smiled again, this time letting out a gargled, wheezing laugh that made Draco cringe inwardly. He tried to keep his face expressionless as the man hobbled around the counter to face him.

'Follow me,' he cackled, beckoning Draco forwards with a long, talon-like finger. With that he turned and made his way through an archway just behind him at the back of the shop, with Draco close behind at his wake.

The man led him along a corridor lined with crooked wooden beams, and then up a flight of twisting metal stairs that wobbled precariously as they took them. He never spoke, only snorted to himself every once in a while as if he'd thought of something funny. As they walked on Draco took the opportunity to straighten out his cloak and push back his fringe- doing his best to look presentable, whilst trying, albeit in vain, to keep calm.

Eventually, his guide led him through an open door into a large room with a wooden floor, walls and ceiling, from which hung a dozen brightly lit lamps. There were windows, but all the curtains were drawn closed. At the centre of the room stood a grand fireplace, a flickering green fire blazing away in the hearth, a bucket of floo powder placed on the mantelpiece. Two long, black, plush leather sofas were placed facing each other, sideways on to the fire, and sprawled across the one that faced the door sat Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy.

Any son would usually be pleased to see their father, but not Draco. He was never pleased to see Lucius these days, although he had been, once. Whenever his father showed up, it often meant something bad, even though this meeting was supposed to be a good thing. Stood in a cluster between the two sofas was a crowd of Death Eaters- all his father's friends, and all people Draco at least new the names of. He recognised Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Thorfinn Rowle, Fenir Greyback, and then stood behind them were Yaxley and Gibbon. All were famously faithful to Voldermort. On the sofa facing away from him, Draco recognised his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, from her ridiculously scruffy hairdo.

As soon as he stepped into the room, Lucius spotted him. A wide smile of pride spread across his face as he flung his arms out in greeting. 'Draco,' he cried, rising to his feet. Immediately, all the other heads turned to stare at the new arrival. Lucius, still beaming, glided across the room to grasp Draco by the shoulders and lead him towards everyone else. Draco looked behind him for the man who had led him here, but found he was nowhere to be seen. That meant he had been stood alone in the doorway for however long, looking like a fool. He cursed silently.

Bellatrix turned on the sofa, bouncing up and down in excitement. 'You made it,' she exclaimed in her usual, slightly hysterical voice.

'Of course he did,' Lucius said smugly. 'I knew that-'

'The Cabinet's work,' Draco interjected, smiling with the same smug expression his father held. As he looked around, he received some rather impressed looks that actually made him feel almost as proud as his father appeared. He'd never accomplished something so important for the Death Eater's before.

His smile faded slightly as he felt his father's grip tighten on his shoulders, his nails digging painfully into his skin. 'Do not interrupt me,' Lucius hissed between his teeth, still managing to keep smiling though he was obviously not happy with the spotlight being taken off him. Like usual, already his father was beginning to get angry with him. No matter what Draco did, no matter what he said, his father would always find a way to get mad. 'This is, of course, excellent news,' he continued, still gripping Draco painfully by the shoulders as he led him to stand in front of the fireplace, where finally he let go.

Draco rolled his shoulders back in annoyance, and went to sit on the empty sofa, but found he was jerked back by Lucius' hand on his arm.

'My son has completed the first mission,' Lucius announced to the Death Eaters crowded round. Bellatrix continued to jump up and down, clapping her hands in excitement. 'Which means we know we can safely enter Hogwarts School when the time is right,' he added, slapping Draco on the back a little too hard in a supposedly congratulatory gesture, but Draco knew better. It was his father's way of telling him to keep his mouth shut.

'When will that be?' asked a gruff voice that could only belong to Fenir Greyback.

'I want to end him now,' Bellatrix growled in an impatient tone, banging her hand against the sofa top. 'How much longer do I have to wait, Lucius? The sooner he's gone the better for us.'

'Patience, Bellatrix.' It was Thorfinn who answered, the oldest of the group, who was spinning a menacing looking pointed staff between his long, bony fingers in thought. 'We have to wait for the word, you know that.'

'But he needs to die,' Bellatrix whined, pouting profusely.

Draco couldn't bear to stay silent any longer. Questions swirled around his head, making him feel dizzy. 'Who needs to die?' he blurted, earning a glare from Lucius.

'Why, Albus Dumbledore, of course,' Bellatrix grinned, cackling madly. 'Who needs to die? Honestly!' She snorted and burst into another fit of giggles. 'You should know, you're the one to kill him!'

Draco froze at that, the colour draining from his face. His brain tried to process what he had just heard, but he found that he couldn't think straight. 'What?' he whispered.

'You heard me,' Bellatrix said. Then she frowned and tilted her head until it almost rested atop her left shoulder. Her dark eyes bore into his grey ones like lasers. 'Don't tell me you didn't know,' she scoffed. At that a murmur broke out across the room. Bellatrix looked up to Lucius, then back at Draco. She laughed again. 'Oh, you didn't! Lucius didn't tell you. Oh, how funny.'

'Funny?' Draco accused. 'How is that funny? I- I've never killed anyone before.'

'It's a great honour,' Lucius said bluntly, his lips pressed in a thin line. But Draco was too confused and panicked to notice his father's anger towards his outburst.

'I can't!' Draco cried, shaking his head, and taking an automatic step backwards. Everyone was staring at him, but all he could feel was a growing horror at the prospect. Why had he been chosen to kill Dumbledore? Why him? He was the least experienced- the one who had never actually killed somebody.

'What do you mean, _you can't?_ ' Bellatrix sniggered. She continued in a plane tone; as if she were reciting a well-known fact. 'Every Death Eater can kill. What difference does it make who it is?'

'It's Dumbledore!' Draco cried desperately, his eyes wide and scared. 'Everyone will know...'

'It's a great way to prove yourself to Lord Voldemort,' Lucius snapped, eyeing Draco with a dangerous glint in his eye. 'Come now, Draco, of course you can perform this task. A lot depends on this, you know.'

'You are a Death Eater, aren't you Draco?' Thorfinn inquired from across the room, an eyebrow raised.

'I-,' Draco stammered.

'Of course he is!' Lucius replied for him, grasping Draco's left sleeve and yanking it up to reveal the Dark Mark engraved on the inner part of his forearm. It was inky black, the symbol of a snake protruding from the skull's mouth as clear as ever. He'd got the mark in the summer; his father had insisted that it was the right time, that he was ready. 'Draco will do this, you have my word,' he said gravely.

'You know what will happen if he doesn't,' Greyback said maliciously, licking his lips with a horrible slurping sound that reminded Draco of a rabid dog eying its prey.

'Severus Snape,' Lucius answered sharply, 'has agreed to finish the task should Draco fail. But I'm telling you, he shall not! I swear it.'

'Let's all hope that's true,' Alecto spoke up for the first time, his arm circled across his sister's, who in turn smiled into his shoulder with a cold sneer.

Thorfinn stepped forward, the right corner of his mouth pulled into a twisted smile as he looked at Draco with intense eyes. 'We can rely on you, can't we Draco?'

Draco was hot and cold all at the same time. He could feel sweat dripping down his back as he stood, unmoving, unsure of what to say. All eyes were upon him, and although he wasn't looking at Lucius, he could feel his father's gaze boring down on him, filled with a growing rage and strong anticipation. He was not pleased. When Draco gulped, it hurt his throat. 'Yes,' he said, as steadily as he could. 'You can rely on me, I swear. I just...I need some time...'

'Atta boy, Mr Malfoy,' Thorfinn said, as if he were speaking to a little boy. The man stepped forward and ruffled Draco's white bond hair. 'A handsome young man like you has nothing to fear. I knew you'd do it. Well, it's not like you have a choice, of course,' he added with a smirk.

'He should get back to school,' Lucius declared all of a sudden, his hand snaking towards Draco's back. 'We can continue this meeting without him.' His announcement was met with a few murmurs and nods from the other Death Eaters, whose eyes were all still lingering on Draco and his father.

'Of course,' Thorfinn agreed, voicing what the others were thinking. It was clear to Draco that they were all waiting to discuss something else that excluded him- probably something classified he wasn't even sure he wanted to know. These were some of Voldemort's most trusted followers, so it was likely to be immensely important.

'Bye, poppet,' Bellatrix said, waving as Lucius escorted Draco out the room as quickly as possible, not stopping to look back. He half dragged half guided Draco through the doorway, back along the cramped corridor and down the stairs. He was walking at such a fast pace that Draco would have found it difficult to keep up had his farther not had a hold of him. As soon as they had reached the main part of the store, Lucius flung Draco forwards with all his might.

With a cry of surprise, Draco skidded across the room and smacked into the shop counter, crumpling to his knees as soon as he made impact, his hands flying out in front of him automatically as he landed. He stayed on all fours for a few seconds, breathing hard. When he finally looked up, through a curtain of hair he could see his farther standing, feet spread apart, his wand raised above his head. The hand that held it shook with rage and his face was a livid red.

'You stupid boy,' he snarled, spit flying everywhere. Draco's eyes were wide with shock. 'You almost ruined that for me. What will the Dark Lord think when he hears that Lucius Malfoy's son is a coward? This will not sit well with our family. You've endangered me and your mother and everyone else you bloody care about! I told you not to mess this up, and look what you've gone and done. Refused to perform the task he so graciously gave you? You never refuse the Dark Lord, never. But no, little Draco was only thinking about himself, as always. Which reminds me- WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?' he finished with a roar, bringing the wand up even higher, his whole body shaking now.

'I-' Draco began, but his father wasn't listening. Instead, with a shout of anger he thrust his wand in front of him, green sparks shooting from the tip.

Draco threw himself sideways to avoid the spell, but Lucius fired again. Draco ducked, and the spell crashed into the shelf where his head had been moments before, shattering a dozen glass jars in the process. He lifted his arms above his head in defence as glass shards fell around him, leaving him in a pool of the glittering fragments. When he brought his arms back down, he saw they were covered in hundreds of little cuts, scarlet blood spilling from each wound, bright against the stark whiteness of his skin.

He glanced up just in time to see Lucius barrelling towards him, hatred for his son blazing in his eyes. Draco had never seen his father so mad, with that look on his face- but then again he had never disappointed him on a task of this scale. He only had time to blink before Lucius was upon him, lifting him up and crushing him against the rim of the counter.

Lucius brought his fist back and released it. A fiery pain flared up across Draco's face, his head snapping backwards. A bitter metallic taste filled his mouth, and he felt something sticky at his nose. He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back as far as he could before Lucius could hit him again.

'Father, please!' he begged. 'This wasn't what I-' He was interrupted again, as Lucius yanked up his sleeve to yet again reveal Draco's Dark Mark. Draco turned his head away in disgust.

'Look at this,' Lucius spat, pressing the tip of his wand into Draco's forearm. Suddenly his arm was stinging as if he'd been stabbed with a thousand needles, forcing him to look back, to stare at the inky tattoo engraved forever upon his skin. 'This,' Lucius continued, 'binds you to the Dark Lord. This is who you are. You cannot fail him.'

Draco bit his lip, which was beginning to tremble. 'I can't do it,' he whispered, his voice sounding disgustingly pathetic to his own ears. But he couldn't help it; the words just kept spilling from his lips. 'I can't kill him, I can't!'

Instead of more anger, this confession seemed to calm Lucius. He let go of Draco, straightened his serpent green cloak, and arranged the silver broach that clasped it at the throat. He stared down at his son as if he were eyeing a cockroach. He spoke, his voice thick with disappointment. 'I always knew you were weak, Draco, but, whether you like it or not, you _will_ kill Albus Dumbledore,' he said. 'Now, get out of my sight.' And with that he turned on his heel and stalked off without another word, his long blond hair flying out behind him, the click of his heels ringing out in the silence.

Draco was left staring after him, his knuckles white as they gripped the counter. Left in silence.


	4. Confrontation

**So... next week I am going to America, and it's the first time I will ever leave Europe, so naturally I'm extremely excited. Unfortunately, this means I won't be able to post a chapter next week, although I made this one a bit longer to make up for it. I've forgotten to write this previously, but obviously all rights go to J. K. Rowling and her immense imagination! As always, please review if you're willing- it really makes my day. Happy reading :)**

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Hermione couldn't remember how she had made it back to bed that night. She woke with a start, sitting bolt upright, her covers strewn around her in a heaped mess. She wondered for a moment how she had got there- she couldn't recall retiring to the girl's dorm in the evening. Then, out of the blue, her memories came flooding back.

Tumbling out of the Vanishing Cabinet in Borgin and Burkes. The dark magic shop down Knockturn alley. Ducking behind a cabinet when she had heard approaching voices. Seeing Lucius Malfoy hit his son with such rage. Draco's Dark Mark. Lucius' announcement to kill Dumbledore. Draco's refusal to do so. Following Draco back through the Cabinet. And running, running all the way back to the Gryffindor common room without stopping.

'You look like you slept well,' a voice cut through her thoughts. Her head snapped up, and she saw Ginny Weasley, also sat up in bed, grinning at her from across the room.

'I... had a bad dream,' Hermione said with a yawn, stretching her arms out in front of her.

'After the first day back at school? Well if that isn't a bad sign...'Ginny said, kicking off her covers and stumbling to her feat with a groan.

'Oh, please,' Hermione huffed, mimicking her actions. 'You're starting to sound like Professor Trelawney,' she said, referring to the slightly batty teacher of Divination. 'Not something I want to deal with first thing in the morning.'

Ginny sighed. 'You're right. Everyone gets nightmares- it's just you usually sleep like a rock.'

'Um, says you,' Hermione replied in an accusing tone, raking a comb through her hair whilst juggling to untangle her robes from the heap she had left them in on the floor. 'You were passed out on the couch before we even had to make it upstairs.'

'Really?' Ginny said in mock surprise. 'I don't remember that. And, speaking of which, I also don't remember seeing you come to bed last night,' she scrunched up her face in thought, and then shook her head. 'Like, at all. Where were you?'

Hermione panicked briefly before saying, as calmly as she could, 'that's strange. I was there most of the evening. But, come to think of it, I did go out for a short walk early on whilst you were asleep, although I definitely came back before bed. I think...you were a little tired by that point,' she finished with a smile.

Ginny frowned. 'Oh,' she said. Then her face transformed into a picture of blissful happiness as another thought popped into her head, replacing the confusion caused by Hermione's lie. 'You went out by yourself? Look at you getting all rebellious. I'm liking it,' she said with a laugh, finishing getting ready by shrugging her Gryffindor cloak on over her uniform. 'I'm done, you?'

'I'm ready,' Hermione said with a nod, and with that the two girls marched through the door, down the stairs and out of the Gryffindor common room into one of the main corridors. It didn't take them long to make their way to the Great Hall, where breakfast was being served, chatting all the while about the different lessons they were taking, and how many boys Ginny had dated over the summer- the answer being a lot.

Ron and Harry were already sat at the Gryffindor table when the girls arrived at their places, Ron avoiding Hermione by holding up a newspaper and pretending to read it intently. Instead of going to sit by Ron, like she usually did, Hermione slipped into the seat beside Harry, who rolled his eyes at her and began reaching for some food.

Ginny gave a huge sigh as she went round the table to sit opposite them next to Ron. 'Please, can you guys just make up already? I hate sitting next to my brother!'

'Thanks, Ginny,' Ron muttered, not looking up.

'Oh come on guys!' Ginny whined in response. 'What did my brother even do?' she said, directing her question at Hermione.

But Hermione wasn't listening. She was scouting the Slytherin table, her eyes sweeping up and down, searching for any signs of a tall, slim, blonde haired boy. However, Draco was nowhere to be seen, and Hermione had come in quite late: the room was almost full of pupils. And it wasn't as if Draco wasn't in school- he had used the Vanishing Cabinet's to transport back to Hogwarts before Hermione had. Maybe he wasn't planning on showing up, but, surely he would, or else that would raise suspicion?

Hermione shook herself angrily. Why was she worrying about Draco? She should have reported what she saw immediately, as soon as she had got back. But...she couldn't. All she could think of was that look of terror she had seen plastered on a face that was usually brimming with so much confidence. The fear that consumed a boy who pretended he had none. Just the thought of doing something so horrific as committing murder had left him looking so lost...it had shocked her. Had the scene played out in her head, Hermione would have imagined Draco leaping at a chance to prove himself to Voldemort, and to his father. He was always so proud of his pure-blood heritage. But instead she had seen him flat out refuse to do something in a situation where he had had no choice- and to refuse his father, of all people. Hermione had never thought that Lucius was so controlling of Draco, she had believed both father and son adored one and other in equal measure. Yet it certainly wasn't the case at all, not after what she'd witnessed. Did she feel sorry for him? A Slytherin pure-blood who had spent the past five years calling her filthy words and laughing in her face? She didn't know. All she knew was she couldn't just hand him over to the Ministry of Magic. And that was what would happen if she alerted the school of what she had discovered.

'Hermione!' Ginny's impatient cry jolted her from her stupor. 'Are you even listening? What are you looking around for?'

'What? Oh, nothing,' Hermione said hurriedly. Her reply was met with a couple of raised eyebrows from her friends. 'Um,' Hermione continued, looking down at the empty plate that sat in front of her, 'so, what did you say again?'

'Why are you and Ron fighting?' Ginny pressed, leaning both her elbows on the table and shaking her long, ginger hair over her shoulders in impatience. 'Or, should I just ask Harry?'

'Huh?' Harry said at the mention of his name, the forkful of food he had just lifted to his mouth hovering midway to its destination.

Ginny sighed for the umpteenth time and reached moodily for a helping of potatoes from the platter to her left. 'Unbelievable,' she cried. 'What is with everyone today? Is nobody awake? It's the first day back at school! Is no one excited, or what?'

'Not really,' Ron said, flinging his newspaper down. He rolled his shoulders back slowly, and then finally looked up, directly at Hermione, who stared back plainly. After what felt like a long time gazing at one and other, Hermione quickly looked away, as did Ron. He cleared his throat and picked up his cutlery. 'I, for one, am starving, so...' He trailed off, and plucked one of Ginny's potatoes from her plate, popping it into his mouth with a foolish grin.

'Hey,' Ginny said, glaring at her brother. Ron's eyes locked with Hermione's again, and she couldn't help it, she gave out a short laugh, all her worries forgotten for the moment. Ron looked pleased as he munched away, reaching across Ginny- who batted at him with the newspaper- to snatch up the potato platter.

He held it out to Hermione. 'Potato,' he offered, his words slurred due to the fact his mouth was still stuffed with the food.

It was Hermione's turn to bat at Ron. 'I don't think so,' she said firmly, laughing again.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. 'Yay,' he celebrated. 'Everyone's made up. Thank the lord, because I was beginning to regret coming back this year. And yes Ron,' he said with a grin, 'I'd love a potato, thanks for offering.' He reached over and took the platter from Ron, who smiled back.

Bang. The doors to the Great Hall swung open, causing practically everyone in the room to turn and stare at whoever had just made an entrance. Hermione hadn't even realised the doors had been shut- which meant the person entering was very late, considering they shut the doors once everyone was supposed to have taken their seats. She followed the gaze of everyone else, and saw none other than Draco as he came striding into the Hall.

Her happiness was short lived, as the crushing weight of everything from the previous night was back, although she had never really forgotten anything. The physical appearance of Draco was a vivid reminder that it had all been real. His head was down as he stormed over to his seat at the Slytherin table, his hands shoved into his pockets, just like they always were. But even Hermione could see how awful he looked: his skin was paler than ever, if that was even possible, with his cheeks a sickly green tinge. As he took his place besides Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle, she caught a glimpse of his eyes as he looked up to greet his friends, and they were the picture of tiredness, with big purple bruises underneath them, indicating little to no sleep. Hermione suspected the latter, and she wasn't surprised. She doubted she would be able to sleep after having been told she had to kill Dumbledore, a prospect that terrified her just as much as it must for Draco.

It was strange, knowing that only she and Draco were the ones who knew about this 'master Death Eater plan'. And that not even Draco was aware that she did. _It must be a terrible burden to bear_ , Hermione thought to herself, just as the room began to grow loud with chatter again after Draco's entrance had stunned everyone to silence. She looked to the front of the room to see Dumbledore smiling and talking to his neighbours at the head of the staff table, and then back to Draco, who was staring down at his empty plate with a look of hatred.

 _It must be horrible_ , she wondered, _to be in the same room as the person you are going to kill_. This, she couldn't keep this to herself, she decided suddenly. This wasn't her burden, and murdering the school's professor- she realised with a jolt- was a very, very big deal. Her mind whirred as she was back again to considering her options. Earlier she had vowed to herself to keep it a secret but- Draco could kill Dumbledore at any time. It could be within the week, and she was officially a witness. If she didn't tell anyone- well, that could end badly for her, and she was risking Dumbledore's life the whole time. It didn't matter that Draco was unwilling, it wasn't her problem. Her problem was the potential life she could save- the headmaster's, of all people!

'Guys,' Hermione blurted, turning back to face her friends, who were all busily stuffing their faces, while her plate still lay empty. _This is it_ , Hermione thought as everyone glanced up at her. Everyone except Ginny, who was staring wide eyed at the Daily Prophet. Hermione, not noticing this, opened her mouth to continue when Ginny spoke, cutting her off.

'Oh. My. God.' Everyone's attention- including Hermione- was now on her as her eyes flicked back and forth between the other three Gryffindors. 'Guys, you will never believe this,' she said, her eyes bulging as wide as saucers. 'You will never believe this,' she repeated.

Ron drummed his fingers on the table. 'What?' he snapped. 'You're keeping us in suspense here.'

'It's Lucius Malfoy,' she gaped, and Hermione was immediately drawn by the name. 'He's escaped from Azkaban; can you believe it? Apparently Death Eaters are doing that more often, and no one knows how.'

 _Of course_ , Hermione thought to herself. She had forgotten that last night, when she had seen Lucius. She remembered being shocked to see him, and not just because the whole experience had been shocking- but because of something she couldn't remember, and this was it! She'd read about Lucius' imprisonment at the end of last year and after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, in which she had fought alongside her friends against the likes of Lucius and other Death Eaters. 'Life sentence', the headline had read.

'I bet Malfoy over there knows how,' Ron said with disgust, jabbing his thumb towards where Draco sat at the Slytherin table. 'He's probably a bloody Death Eater himself, prancing around the place like he owns it. I bet he even helped his father escape, like a little Death Eater training exercise or something.'

'Wouldn't surprise me,' Harry agreed, the look of hatred in his eyes apparent as he followed Ron's gaze.

'Don't be stupid you guys,' Ginny butted in with a roll of her eyes. 'Draco's not a Death Eater. For one, he's too young. And they wouldn't let him into school if they thought that.'

 _Oh, if only you knew_ , Hermione thought, an image of Draco's Dark Mark floating up in her mind.

'It's _Malfoy_ , not _Draco,_ ' Ron said, sounding exasperated. 'Pathetic little ferrets don't deserve to be called by their first names. And, Ginny, I'm just surprised they would trust someone whose family are all Death Eaters, and whose father is- sorry, _was_ \- in prison for it. Kind of suspicious.'

'You know,' a voice cut in, and everyone looked round to see Seamus Finnegan leaning towards them, who was sitting a little way away from Harry. 'I heard they weren't going to let him in, but Snape fought for him to get a place this year.'

'Snape?' Ron said mutely. 'Yeah, he kisses Malfoy's ass. I've never seen a teacher so head over heels for a pupil before. I think he's in love.' Harry sniggered.

'Yeah, well,' Ginny said with a shrug. 'Oh, Hermione! What was it you were going to say again?' she asked, facing Hermione with a questioning look. Suddenly all eyes were upon her again, this time including Seamus'.

'Oh, well, I...' she started. A moment of silence passed, with everyone still waiting patiently for Hermione to talk. But, she found she couldn't. The word's tasted like acid in her mouth, and for some unknown reason, she found she couldn't say a word. She thought that, of all people, her friends would be the easiest to tell. Had she left it too late? Would they think she'd been withholding information if she told them now? Would they think she had been protecting Draco? Whatever the reason, she realised that Draco's secret was now her secret. She had no idea what she would do with it, but for now, it would go unshared. 'Um, it was nothing. Doesn't matter,' she shrugged. Then, to avoid any curious stares, she began to pile any helpings of food she could see onto her plate. 'God, I am starving though.'

* * *

'What am I doing?' Hermione mumbled to herself as she rushed down corridor after corridor, a big pile of books in her hands. She was returning them to the library after borrowing them for the summer, as she had felt the need to catch up on some class work she had missed in fifth year. Going to the library was also the perfect excuse to take out something new to read, and a good place for her to sit down and think. Alone. At breakfast, having her friends around had made it difficult to concentrate. With so many complicated things going on in her head, she desperately felt the need to sort it all out- without distractions and questions from anybody else.

She walked on, head down, clasping her books to her chest like a lifeline, trying not to worry too much about... everything. Which is what she would do if she thought too long about what she was doing, and what she was doing, she had no idea. Then she rounded the corner, and felt like she had just collided with a brick wall.

The books she had been holding flew from her grasp as she toppled backwards, managing to regain her footing before she completely fell over. The 'brick wall' she had hit, stumbled the other way, a hand to his face. Hermione was in disbelief. Of all the people she could have bumped into, it was Draco Malfoy she had collided with.

'Ow,' the Slytherin hissed unceremoniously, rubbing his cheek vigorously where it must have been caught by one of Hermione's books, which were quite heavy. 'Watch it...' he continued, looking up. As soon as he saw Hermione standing in front of him, his expression changed from one of anger, to shock, and then finally to a look of hatred. 'Granger?' He sounded mad, and disbelieving. 'What are _you_ doing here?'

'I'm-' Hermione began, intending to explain that she was headed towards the library, and that is was none of his business where she was going. But as she looked around, she realised that she was nowhere near the library, and actually closer to the Slytherin common room. Had she been subconsciously heading this way, or had she just been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she had lost her way and happened to end up in the place she least wanted to be... by chance? Whatever the case, there was no excuse to her being here, so instead Hermione did something ridiculously impulsive she would have regretted had she thought about it for even a split second.

Draco was still glaring at her, waiting impatiently for a response, a hand still to his face. His free arm was his left, which was hanging by his side. Hermione suddenly leapt forward, reaching for it, managing to grab it. Draco, certainly not expecting to be attacked, was unprepared. He was only just starting to pull away when Hermione twisted his arm up, yanking his sleeve down to his elbow and revealing his Dark Mark, in plain sight.

Draco stared at his exposed arm, then back at Hermione, who was still clinging to him with wide eyes, unsure of what she had just done. He spluttered slightly, before finally coming to his senses and realising what had just happened. With a cry he shoved her backwards, pulling his sleeve down hastily. Without a pause, he charged.

'Malfoy, wait!' Hermione cried just before he was on top of her, forcing her backwards against the cold stone wall of the corridor. He was bigger and stronger than her, and Hermione knew she didn't stand a change fighting Draco physically. Despite this she continued to flail and kick, trying in vain to force the body that was pressed up against her away. She could hear Draco's harsh breaths in her face as he held her in place with one hand, his other fumbling for something. His eyes were large, and Hermione knew he was panicking.

She continued to protest, slipping one hand into her robes, and feeling for her wand, also. Draco beat her to it, drawing his wand out and pressing it to her neck. 'How did you know?' he hissed, giving her a quick shake. 'Tell me.'

'Malfoy, please,' Hermione hissed back. Calm down-'

'Answer my question,' he snarled, interrupting her, pressing the wand down harder. 'Did someone tell you about this? Did you see it?' he demanded, his voice quivering.

Hermione gulped- the look on Draco's face was terrifying, and she had no idea what he was going to do. 'Please,' she said again, trying to keep her voice calm. 'I'll explain everything, but not here.'

'You can tell me now,' Draco said stubbornly. 'Don't mess with me Granger,' he warned, bringing his face even closer to hers. 'You don't understand what you're doing.'

'Just let me explain,' Hermione pleaded again. Her fingers were still grasping for her wand, but Draco's arm was pushed up against hers as he held her, trapping it. However, she could feel her fingers brushing against the wand tip. She could almost reach it...

'I have a better idea, Granger,' Draco said. 'Either you talk or I wipe your little mudblood memory clean. You won't even remember the past couple of days, let alone this ever happening. Your choice.'

Hermione gasped. 'That's _insane_. Malfoy, I promise I'll tell you everything I know, but not here. I promise you,' she blurted, trying feebly to lift herself off the wall again with little success. The look on Draco's face told her he wasn't listening to anything she was saying. He looked desperate and slightly mad as he lifted his wand to her head.

Hermione's heartbeat quickened as she began to struggle again. 'What are you doing?' she asked, even though she knew the answer. Draco was going to wipe her memory. Everything she had learnt would be gone: the Vanishing Cabinets, Borgin and Burkes, Draco's 'mission', everything.

Draco ignored her, opening his mouth to utter the incantation. 'Obli-'

'Expelliarmus,' Hermione cried before Draco could utter the fateful words. Just as he was about to wipe her memory the hand that had been grasping for her wand had finally closed around its target. She had managed to pull the wand from her robes and disarm Draco at the last second. She watched in relief as his wand flew from his grip and clattered to the floor a couple of metres from where the two stood. Draco let go of Hermione, darting for it, and releasing her from his hold. Hermione stepped away from the wall, ignoring her sore and most likely bruised back.

As soon as Draco had a hold of his wand again, he spun back towards Hermione, pointing it at her with an extended arm. Hermione mirrored his stance, feeling a lot calmer now that she was no longer in immediate danger. 'What do you say, Malfoy?' Hermione asked after a moment of silence. She kept a straight face whilst Draco made no effort to hide his hatred, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. The only clue to his anxiousness was the slight tremor in his hand as he held his wand, which was still aimed at Hermione. 'We can talk privately, and I'll explain what I know, or you can continue your attempt to commit an act of treason by attacking another pupil. Now, it's your choice,' she finished, raising an eyebrow.

'How do I know you won't tell somebody?' Draco asked furiously, shifting from one foot to another. He was nervous.

'You don't,' Hermione admitted simply. 'But I swear on my life that I won't tell anyone about this.'

'I don't believe you,' Draco said sharply, his eyes darting about. He was definitely getting more nervous the longer they were out in the corridor. It was extremely lucky that no one had walked by yet. 'Why wouldn't you tell anyone?'

'Because,' Hermione said calmly, 'I know more than you think.' Draco's brow furrowed as he processed this new information, Hermione stared meaningfully at him all the while. She lowered her wand, and after a few seconds, to her relief, so did he.

More silence passed. Then Draco spoke. One word, which sent relief washing over Hermione like a wave. 'Fine,' he said, pocketing his wand. 'I know a place. Follow me.'

And with that he began to walk away without another glance towards Hermione. He walked right past her and turned the corner- the other way from which she'd come. As he brushed past her it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, although it was obvious he was on edge as he strode ahead of her. Hermione followed, unsure of what she was doing herself, but she knew better than to start arguing with Draco. So she continued on after him, the pile of books left sprawled all over the floor, forgotten.

* * *

 **Next chapter in 2 weeks... Thanks for reading!**


	5. The Hog's Head

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or liked or followed so far- it means so much to me! This is still a bit strange since I've never published a story of mine before, and the comments have been so positive and uplifting. As promised, here is the fifth chapter, perhaps with a little bit of Dramione action as a reward for the long wait... who knows? ;) America was amazing, and I had a wonderful holiday, but I'm also glad to be back and writing again. I actually couldn't wait to continue with this story! As always, happy reading!**

* * *

5\. The Hog's Head

Draco led Hermione through corridors and archways she couldn't remember passing. But then again, it wasn't often she ventured to this side of the building. A couple of students passed by them, but not many as only the upper years had a free period. Nearly all of them were Slytherin, which made Hermione slightly uncomfortable, since they all seemed to be staring at her. She kept a good few metres between Draco and herself, so that no one would realise they were heading the same way.

Draco eventually stopped at a door set into the wall. Hermione watched as he stepped in front of the big lock visible beneath the door handle, shielding her from what he was doing. A few seconds later, there was a click, and the door swung open. Draco disappeared inside, not checking to see if Hermione was following. She did, slipping through the door after him before it closed. Once inside she was met with a staircase that spiralled upwards, presumably right to the top of the tower.

Hermione sighed, hitching up her robes and continuing up after the sound of Draco's echoing footsteps against the cold stone steps. 'Did you break in?' she called up after him.

There was a long pause, and Hermione wondered if Draco had actually heard her question, or if he was just going to ignore her. But then, he spoke. 'No,' he called down, sounding slightly fed up. 'I have a key.'

'You have a key?' Hermione repeated with a disbelieving tone.

'Yeah,' Draco said. 'I stole it from Filch. You going to report me for that?'

'No,' Hermione said back, before the two lapsed again into silence. In her opinion, it didn't look like Filch came up here much anyway. The sconces that lined the circular walls were empty and covered in thick coatings of dust, stringy cobwebs hanging limply from their bodies. It grew colder the higher Hermione climbed, causing her to wrap her Gryffindor cloak tightly around her shoulders in order to keep warm.

It took a good couple of minutes to climb the stairs, and once Hermione reached the top she found herself feeling quite dizzy. The stairs ended at another door, which Draco had already opened, probably with the same key. He'd left it wide open for her, and as she walked through it she found herself emerging into a wide circular room that was completely bare. The cold air came from the number of arched windows in the wall, all of which contained no glass and were covered only by a pair of metal bars. They were quite small windows; however, that didn't stop the icy gusts of wind that blew into the room, sending dust balls scattering across the bare wooden boards.

Draco was leaning against the far wall, one foot pressed up against it, his arms folded. He looked impatient.

'You stole a key to this place?' Hermione questioned him with distaste. She supposed it was nice and private- no one would ever come here, that was for sure. But why would you feel the need for a place like this?

'What do you know?' Draco asked bluntly, ignoring Hermione's question and glaring at her from behind a fringe of white hair that had fallen over his eyes. He brushed it back with irritation.

'Ok,' Hermione said slowly. 'I'll tell you.'

And she did. She started from the beginning, from when she'd seen Draco in the corridor the night before. She explained how she'd followed him to the Room of Requirement, and how she'd also discovered the Vanishing Cabinets. She then went on to talk about how she'd ended up in Borgin and Burkes, and hidden herself when she'd heard voices- the voices of Lucius Malfoy and Draco himself.

'I saw it all happen,' she explained, keeping her eyes warily on Draco to see how he'd react. This was the part that she was least looking forward to sharing. She was impressed with him so far, as he hadn't interrupted her once, although he had been looking down at the floor the whole time whilst biting his lip. Probably trying hard _not_ to interrupt.

He looked up as she said this though. 'You mean you heard everything my farther said to me?' he asked, looking directly at Hermione, his expression one she couldn't place.

'Yes,' Hermione confessed. 'Every word from the moment you came down the stairs at the back of the shop.'

'So...,' Draco said, shifting to clasp his hands tightly in front of him. Hermione tugged nervously on a stand of her curly brown hair. The tension in the room was almost unbearable. 'You know what I have to do?'

'Yes,' Hermione answered with a short nod, her voice barely a whisper.

Draco stayed silent for a long time, his forehead creased in concentration, while Hermione stayed where she stood uncertainly in the centre of the room. She felt very uncomfortable; because she could see every emotion Draco was experiencing displayed clearly on his features and in his body language- and this was a boy she barely knew. A boy she hated. 'I don't understand,' Draco finally said, looking at her again.

'What?' Hermione breathed, her voice hoarse. She was getting nervous now.

'Why you won't tell anyone,' he said. Then he narrowed his eyes. 'Or will you?'

'No,' Hermione said firmly, drawing another surprised look from Draco. 'I promised.'

'Yeah, but why?' Draco pressed. 'I'm a Slytherin, and you're a Gryffindor,' he said with distaste, pointing first to himself and then at Hermione. 'It seems like the obvious thing for you to go and tell your little Gryffindor buddies about the evil Slytherin who's going to murder your beloved headmaster,' he continued, his voice rising as he spoke.

'You're not evil,' Hermione said suddenly, surprising herself as well as Draco, who gave her a questioning look. She had sounded...sincere, to her own ears, as if she really believed her own words.

'Yeah,' Draco scoffed. Clearly even he didn't believe that, which was an odd thing, again, for Hermione to see. Surely every Slytherin believed what they were doing- whatever it was- was the right thing? Or maybe there was more to Draco than she had ever thought possible.

'You're not,' Hermione repeated. 'Malfoy, listen. I didn't just hear everything. I saw things too. Your father-'

'That's enough,' Draco spat, interrupting her. He was glaring at her again, and Hermione new why. She had been about to say that his father had hit him, which was by all means a sensitive topic of discussion. Behind the glare, she thought she could see a hint of embarrassment amongst the Slytherin's conflicting emotions.

'Ok, ok,' Hermione said, holding her hands up in defence. 'But you know what I mean. I know you don't want to do this.' She paused for a moment, and then said something impulsive that she would, again, most likely regret. She was doing a lot of impulsive things lately. First, revealing Draco's Dark Mark, and now... 'I can help you.'

'What?' Draco asked in genuine shock.

'I'm the only other person in the entire school who knows about this, right?' Hermione asked. Draco nodded. 'So maybe you need someone to talk to about it. I... could help you stop it.'

At this, Draco let out a bark of laughter, a reaction Hermione was certainly not expecting. 'You're going to help me are you?' Draco said smugly. 'Granger, you don't know the first thing about me. And about stopping it from happening- you can't. What were you planning on doing anyway?'

'I don't know,' Hermione replied angrily, folding her arms. 'But what I wasn't planning was to sit about doing nothing. Not when I know all this,' she gestured wildly with one hand. 'That's something we could talk about.'

'We?' Draco laughed again. 'Granger there is no 'we'. Me and you working together? That's just never going to happen.'

'It's not like we have another option, Malfoy' Hermione spat back.

'I could always wipe your memory,' Draco threatened. 'Or I could report you to the Death Eaters. I'm sure they would know what to do with you.'

'We both know that's a bad idea!' Hermione argued. She was getting fed up of Draco refusing every offer she made. They had what they had to work with, and he was just turning it into a fight between two common enemies. She needed him to see the bigger picture. 'If you report me to your Death Eater clan, don't you think they'd punish you too? After all, you practically _let_ me follow you. And a memory charm? Don't you think my friends would notice if I suddenly forgot everything from the past couple of days? Don't you think they'd get suspicious? And then you'd have something else to worry about.' Hermione was practically shouting now.

Draco held up a hand to silence her. 'Ok, ok, Granger, you've made your point,' he snapped back.

'No, Malfoy, I haven't,' Hermione yelled. 'Don't you see; this isn't about us? It isn't about our petty differences or our hatred for one another; because you've made it very clear that you despise me.'

'And vice versa,' Draco muttered.

Hermione scowled. 'You can either work with me, and we can stop something from happening that _I know_ you don't want to happen, or I'll do it myself, no matter what you think. That's my offer.'

Draco matched her expression with a similar scowl. 'Fine. Fine! But I'm trusting you, Granger. Don't tell anybody about this. And I mean _anybody_.'

'Same to you,' Hermione said. 'Remember I'm trusting you as well, Malfoy.'

'Fine,' Draco repeated. He paused, staring thoughtfully at Hermione, chewing his lip, all the while keeping an unpleasant scowl on his face. It looked as if he were about to say something, but then he appeared to decide against it. During their argument, he had come a few paces away from the wall he had been leaning on, but now he retreating back to slouch against it. 'You should go down first,' he said, pointing to the staircase behind Hermione. 'I'll follow a few minutes after, so it doesn't look like we've been together.' He said the word 'together' as if he were a child talking about broccoli, but Hermione ignored his disgusted tone.

'Ok,' she said, before heading to the doorway. She turned back to the room slightly once she had reached the doorway, very much aware of Draco's scrutinising gaze, contemplating whether or not she should say something else, but she had nothing else to say. Instead, she began her descent back down the spiral staircase. She supposed she'd be speaking to Draco again shortly, although how shortly she had no idea.

* * *

It turned out their next encounter would be sooner than either one had anticipated. The next day- a Tuesday- was the second day of the sixth year Curriculum. The afternoon class on the timetable was Herbology, but due to the fact Professor Sprout was missing various essential potions and tools, plus the fact it had recently been her birthday, she was allowing the class on a trip down to Hogsmeade for the afternoon. Their only orders were to buy a list of products from Dogweed and Deathcap, the Herbology shop, but other than that they had free reign.

'I don't believe this,' Ron exclaimed as he, Harry and Hermione walked in a row along Hogsmeade's main street, their Dogweed and Deathcap products already purchased and stuffed into Harry's rucksack that he had brought along. 'It's our second day back and I've literally had no lessons yet! It's amazing.'

'Don't worry Ron, in a week or two you'll be up to your neck in coursework. Did you know N.E. require over double the amount of additional assignments and weekly examinations in certain subjects?' Hermione asked, causing Ron's elated expression to crumble.

'Yeah, well, I'm just going to enjoy a blissful first week if you don't mind, Miss Know-it-all,' he shot back.

Hermione turned on Ron. 'Really?' she cried. 'This again.'

'Guys, please,' Harry interrupted, rolling his eyes (something he had become very used to doing). 'Can we enjoy one pleasant afternoon where you two don't argue, and we just get some drinks and relax, because it's a nice, sunny day, and we've got nothing to worry about...' he trailed off, looking at his friends with pleading eyes.

'Whatever,' Ron said; at the same time Hermione said 'Yes, lets.' Both looked at each other, but made no comment, although Hermione didn't agree with the fact she had nothing to worry about. If only they knew...

'That's better,' Harry said with a smile, catching the look Hermione and Ron gave each other when they spoke at the same time. Hermione assumed he was only pleased they didn't start at each other again.

The three carried on walking a while, before coming to a halt in front of the Three Broomsticks Inn. There was a steady flow of customers- locals and Herbology students alike- coming in and out of the front door, and through the windows it was clearly packed inside: there were people everywhere.

'Let's go in and buy a Butterbeer or something,' Harry suggested, pointing to the entranceway.

'Actually, I'm feeling like a Firewhiskey,' Ron answered, already beginning to dig into his pockets for his wallet.

'Um, it's a little crowded,' Hermione piped up, but Ron and Harry were already shouldering their way through the crowds to the front door. Hermione was about to follow them inside, reluctantly, when she felt a hand in her pocket. She spun to see Draco standing directly behind her. He gestured with his eyes to her cloak pocket, before spinning and disappearing into the folds of people as quickly as he had appeared.

Hermione blinked but he was already gone. Surprised, she reached into her robes and drew out a folded piece of parchment that had been slipped into one of her pockets. Quickly, she unfolded it to see two words scrawled in loopy handwriting on the page:

Hog's Head

So Draco wanted to meet her at the Hog's Head Inn, a dingy little pub owned by none other than Dumbledore's younger brother, Aberforth, although he was rarely sighted there. Hermione supposed it was quiet there, perfect for a secret meeting. She stared at the parchment for a while, then she quickly scrunched it up and shoved it back into her pocket, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the exchange. But no one even glanced in her direction. She looked back to the Three Broomsticks, and if she squinted she could just make out the retreating figures of Ron and Harry as they made their way to the back of the inn. They hadn't even noticed she was missing. On another day she might have been slightly offended, but right now it was just what she needed.

Without another look back, she began to walk away from the inn, leaving behind her the hordes of jeering people and the usual hustle of a crowded pub on a busy day. The Hog's Head Inn was located down one of the quieter side streets, right at the edge of the village. Unsurprisingly, Hermione didn't encounter a single soul once she'd made it off the main street. In barely any time at all she had made her way to a rather battered looking building with a blackened, rotting front porch and a tatty sign hanging above it consisting of a menacing painting of a pig baring its teeth and the words 'Hog's Head' in faded gold script.

Hermione shivered, suddenly feeling a little cold. She could see only blackness creeping under the front door, which was slightly ajar, and the two windows either side were boarded up. If she hadn't known otherwise, she would have assumed the place was closed. Unwillingly, she stepped inside. The interior was no better, comprising of one small, dirty room, with very little light. The bay windows that lined the walls were so encrusted in filth you could barely see through them, and the rough wooden tables were all bare except for the odd few containing the stubs of candles on their surfaces. The floor was made of stone, and was smothered in so much grime it looked as if there was no floor at all, but instead that the building was simply built on open ground.

There were only two customers. One was a masked figure who sat at one of the tables nearest the bar, their hood down, shadowing their face from view. They sat unmoving, and Hermione, still in the doorway, tried without much success to ignore their unnerving presence. The second customer was Draco. He was sat at a table by one of the windows in the back right corner of the room. He had removed his cloak, which was hanging on the back of his chair, and had rolled up the right sleeve only of his black knitted jumper. He was slouched against the chair's backrest, on hand on one knee, and one hand spinning a single galleon atop the table surface. When the door slammed behind Hermione, he looked up, and beckoned her over.

Hermione hurried to take the seat opposite him, sitting down hastily and drawing her cloak around her. She didn't understand how Draco could have taken his off- it was freezing.

'I can't believe I'm really doing this,' Draco said as soon as she was sat down.

'What? Meeting with a Gryffindor?' Hermione asked, 'because I never expected to be meeting up with a Slytherin, either.'

Draco let out a short laugh at this, although it was missing any hint of humour. 'Yeah, well, there's a firs time for everything, huh.'

Hermione almost smiled. She couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin pure-blood, was making small talk. And he hadn't glared or scowled at her yet. His expression was oddly blank, but it was progress. She leaned forwards slightly, placing her elbows on the table. 'So, why did you ask to meet me here?'

'I... wanted to tell you that I think you're right,' Draco answered, without meeting her eyes.

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. 'Well, I never thought I'd hear a Slytherin say that, that's for sure. Right about what?'

'Yesterday, when you said we should put aside our differences,' Draco continued, still refusing to look up. He had now moved from spinning the coin to tugging on a loose thread on his left sleeve. 'It turns out I do need someone to talk to. I don't think I can stand keeping this to myself any longer. My friends, none of them are even,' he lowered his voice to a whisper, ' _Death Eaters_. I'm the only one. None of them have any idea what's going on, or what I'm going through.' He shook his head in disbelief, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 'I still can't believe I'm pouring my heart out to a Gryffindor. And to you, Granger, of all people.'

Hermione sighed. 'Yeah, well, try not to think about it,' she said. 'This is kind of an odd situation for me too. But I get that this must be hard for you. I know it's a horrible burden to bear, you must understand that.'

'I do,' Draco insisted. 'What I don't understand is why you're doing this. You haven't even told your friends: Potter and Weasley, I thought you guys were inseparable.'

'I promised, didn't I?' Hermione said in earnest. 'And if I told them now...well, Ron would overreact and Harry wouldn't understand...,' she laughed again. 'Look at me, now I'm pouring my heart out to you, Malfoy.'

This time Draco managed a full smile, if only for a few seconds. 'Looks to be that way, Granger.'

'Well, well, well,' a voice croaked. Draco and Hermione both looked up at the same time to see a scraggly old woman in a murky apron looking down on them, wiring grey hair swept wildly from her face. When she spoke again she smiled, showing a mouth full of yellowing teeth, a couple of them missing. 'A Slytherin,' she said, pointing to Draco's tie poking from his sweater, 'and a Gryffindor,' she pointed to the red badge on Hermione's robes. 'How unusual...oh, let me guess- forbidden romance?'

Hermione glanced at Draco, suddenly realising how close they were. Their faces were inches apart- they must have gradually leaned closer as they spoke. Draco seemed to realise this just as Hermione did, as they both sprang backwards at the same time. The strange women cackled hideously.

'Aw,' she exclaimed. 'Have I intruded on something?'

Draco scowled, his face clouding over with hatred. 'What do you want?' he snapped, obviously unhappy with this woman's accusations.

'I'm here to take your order,' the women said with a smile, placing her hands on her hips.

Draco, still scowling, looked up to meet her gaze. 'I'll have a Butterbeer.'

'You'll have a Butterbeer _please_ ,' the woman corrected him in her hoarse voice, letting out another cackle.

Draco's scowl deepened. He reached for his pockets and drew out a galleon and a couple of sickles. 'Here's your money,' he muttered, shoving the coins under her chin.

The woman finally stopped smiling; scowling back she grabbed the money. 'And you?' she asked gruffly, turning to Hermione.

Hermione gave her the same amount. 'The same please,' she said apprehensively.

'Coming right up,' the woman said, backing off without another word.

Hermione turned back to Draco, but he was leaning away from her again, his head turned to the window. From his hunched shoulders and tight expression, Hermione concluded that he was done talking for the moment. He was back to the usual Draco Malfoy she knew so well. The two sat in silence as they waited for their drinks to arrive. Eventually, the grey-haired woman returned, carrying with her two glasses full to the brim with the golden liquid. She set the drinks down and walked off silently, which Hermione was grateful for.

She began drinking her Butterbeer in tiny sips, whereas Draco didn't touch his. The silence finally grew too much for Hermione, who cleared her throat. 'Are you going to drink that?' she blurted. Draco shrugged in response, his head still turned to the window. Hermione grew even more agitated. 'Do you have anything else you want to say to me?'

Draco brought his hand up to his lips, biting his nails slightly. 'Maybe you should leave,' he said quietly.

Hermione stared for a moment. Draco had invited her here to send her away? They hadn't discussed anything to do with his Death Eater mission. All he'd managed to do was tell her he agreed with her and then ordered a Butterbeer before shutting her off again. If they were ever to meet again in the future, she hoped it wouldn't end like this. With an angry sigh she stood up abruptly, her chair scraping back with an ear-splitting screech. 'Maybe I should,' she said, before turning on her heel and storming out the door.

As she made her way back through the streets, she supposed the meeting could have been worse. At first, Draco had been surprisingly open, which meant that somewhere inside him was a part willing to let loose a little and trust someone else. However, for now, she could tell he still didn't fully trust her. He was unwilling to 'pour his heart out'- as he'd so put- about what he was going through. Hermione had to remind herself of the weight on his shoulders. He had to kill someone. Even though she was trying to, she knew she could never fully understand what that was like. Talking to her meant that Draco was betraying his father, the Death Eaters, and also Voldemort himself. Hermione imagined that was another reason he had to keep everything bottled up. Not only was he risking his life by allowing her to know this, her life was also on the line.

Strangely, Hermione was not fazed at all by this fact. She had no idea in the slightest how she or Draco could stop this from happening. If Draco didn't kill Dumbledore, the Death Eaters would surely know about it, and from there, she didn't know what they would do. But for the time being, all she wanted was to take some of the weight off his shoulders. She was surprised at herself for this- for wanting to help her enemy. Draco Malfoy of all people. But she kept remembering his face, the look of horror as his father told him that no matter what, he would kill Dumbledore. He would be taking a life, whether he liked it or not. And that's what would keep her trying. For no one deserved to suffer in that way, and if she was the only one who knew about it, then she was the only one who could help.

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 **Please review if you wish to! Chapter 6 up next Wednesday.**


	6. Confession

**Hello again dear readers, a big thank you to anyone and everyone who's followed or favorited or reviewed this story so far. This chapter is your reward. Be prepared for a bit of a heart to heart, and... well, that's all I've got to say. As always, happy reading :)**

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6\. Confession

'So let me get this straight.' Ginny Weasley was propped up on one arm; her legs sprawled out behind her as she laid on one of the grassy slopes in the Hogwarts grounds. She and Hermione were both sat outside, basking in the glorious September sunshine on their first weekend back at school. Hermione had finished the lengthy essay she had needed to write for her Ancient Runes class on Friday evening, so luckily she had a free weekend. Ginny, on the other hand, had a number of incomplete homework that she had received throughout the week, but in her opinion procrastination in the form of sunbathing was far more beneficial than being cooped up studying in her dorm.

For the past half an hour, all Ginny had been talking about was how Ron and Hermione had managed to fall out...again. This time it was pretty serious, as the two hadn't spoken to each other since Tuesday, the day Hermione slipped off to have her secret meeting with Draco. Although Ron, or any of her friends for that matter, didn't know where she had gone, that didn't stop him from being mad. The fact Hermione could not come up with a good excuse for disappearing on their trip to Hogsmeade made it much worse.

'Let me get this straight,' Ginny said again. 'You told Ron some old bat managed to drag you into Gladrags Wizardwear for a scarf knitting session outside the Three Broomsticks. Hermione, Gladrags is nowhere near the Three Broomsticks!'

'I know,' Hermione said, exasperated. She wondered when her interrogation would end- first Ron (although his methods were more brutal involving shouting and throwing cushions) and now his little sister. 'She was marching up and down the street asking for volunteers. She was so talkative...I didn't even know what happened and then I was in the shop.'

Ginny laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. 'I don't believe you.'

'I swear it's true!' Hermione said, cringing. She hated having to lie.

Ginny laughed again, but she didn't sound angry in the slightest. 'Hermione, you've always been a bad liar. But don't worry, unlike Ron, I don't care what you were doing. I have my suspicions,' she said, wiggling her eyebrows, and receiving a friendly punch on the arm from Hermione, 'but as long as you're lying for a good reason, I won't pry.'

Hermione sighed. She supposed this was as good as it was going to get: you couldn't fool Ginny. 'Thanks, Ginny,' she said with a slight smile. 'I really do appreciate this.'

'That's ok,' Ginny grinned back. 'It's what friends are for, right?'

Hermione bit her lip. If only she knew. 'Right,' she confirmed with a curt nod.

'Hermione,' came a shout from behind. Hermione recognised the voice immediately- it was Harry. Both she and Ginny turned to look over their shoulders' at the dark haired figure running towards them. Harry skidded to a stop a metre away, pointing wildly back towards the school, panting heavily.

'Hey Harry,' Ginny greeted with a smirk, looking the gangly wizard up and down with prying eyes. It was a well-known fact that Ginny was into Harry- everyone but Ron and Harry himself knew it.

Harry gulped, trying to catch his breath. 'Um...hey, Ginny,' he said nervously. He'd never been very good with girls. It was well known that he liked Ginny, too. Well, Hermione had a suspicion, anyhow.

'Harry,' Hermione snapped impatiently, clicking her fingers to get his attention. Harry's focus eventually wandered to her. 'What do you want?'

'Oh, yeah,' Harry breathed, as if a light bulb had just flickered on in his head. Ginny sighed. 'Ron refused to come and tell you- you have a prefects meeting...in McGonagall's office.'

'When?'

'Oh...now.'

'Christ,' Hermione cried, leaping to her feet at his words. 'Oh, I've never been late before,' she complained, scooping up the pink hoodie she had been lying on. 'I blame you Ginny,' she said with false accusation. 'You distract me.'

Ginny batted her eyelashes. 'My pleasure,' she said. 'I'm just shaping the new and improved, rebellious, bad-ass Hermione.'

'Seriously?' Hermione retorted as she began her ascent up the hill and back to the school. Harry tuned to follow her but Hermione placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. 'Keep her company,' she commanded, nodding to Ginny, who gave her a thumbs up behind Harry's back. Without another word, Hermione turned and ran.

She'd practically memorised the route to McGonagall's office, which was on the first floor in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower overlooking the Training Grounds, so she found herself outside the door in a matter of minutes. Cautiously, she knocked three times.

'Come in,' came McGonagall's sharp voice from inside. Hermione opened the door to reveal McGonagall sat at her desk, wearing her usually emerald green cloak, her hair scraped back in a tight bun, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She looked exasperated. 'Miss Granger, you're late, which is not like you at all.'

'I'm sorry, Professor, it won't happen again,' Hermione replied, neglecting the fact she had not been informed of the meeting. There was no point answering back when it was McGonagall you were talking to.

In answer to Hermione's apology, McGonagall gave a slight nod and a small- but visible- smile in her direction. 'Please,' she said calmly. 'Take a seat.' She gestured to the row of chairs sat opposite her desk, and for the first time Hermione saw all the other prefects sat in them, twisted around in their seats to stare at her. And there was only one seat empty- one right between Draco and Ron.

Hermione almost turned and left the room right there and then. Both Ron and Draco hadn't spoken to her since Tuesday, and both conversations had ended badly. She hadn't even _seen_ Draco since then, up until now. He hadn't been showing up to the meals in the Great Hall. Even now, the two of them were the only two not turning to face her. As she went to sit down, Hermione saw from Ron's expression that he was angry, staring stonily at the floor. Draco, on the other hand, only appeared to be wrapped up in thought, staring out past McGonagall's head whilst biting his nails, a gesture she noticed he did quite a lot when he was thinking.

Hermione took her seat in silence. This time, throughout the meeting, she tried her best to pay attention to what was being said. She made sure she noted the time and date of the next one, and when it was her turn to patrol the corridors at curfew. Despite this, she still found herself distracted by the tension she could feel emitting from the boys either side of her.

It was strange having a prefect meeting on a weekend, as everyone was in their own clothes. For some reason, Hermione found herself drawn to Draco. Maybe it was because she couldn't recall ever seeing him on weekends, and therefore in non-uniform. Whatever it was, she found her eyes kept sliding towards him. He was sat in his usual position: slouched lazily against the back of his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. One arm was crossed over his chest, the other slightly lifted as his continued to bite the ends of his spidery fingers. He wore a simple black turtleneck sweater and dark grey, faded jeans with tattered sneakers. Hermione wasn't in the least bit surprised that he was wearing a jumper of such a warm day- he would never wear anything with short sleeves for obvious reasons, unlike Ron on her other side, who sported an alarmingly bright stripy t-shirt. Hermione was surprised to find she quite liked what Draco was wearing. She thought it suited him, and she also found that she didn't feel as queasy when she looked at his complexion. On closer inspection, she saw that his fringe was slightly wavier today, and she wondered if it was naturally like that.

 _What am I doing?_ she scolded herself. _Admiring Draco Malfoy? Whatever next?_ The thought was almost unbearable.

'...and that concludes our meeting,' McGonagall's voice came back to focus just as everyone began to stand up and gather their things. Hermione couldn't believe herself- she'd drifted off again. She couldn't for the life of her remember the last god-knows-how-many minutes of the meeting. She was angry at herself- she could have missed something important, for all she knew!

'Miss Granger?' McGonagall asked as Ron and Draco, the first to leave, banged out the door.

'Yes?' Hermione said. By the time she'd picked up her quill, parchment and jumper and answered McGonagall she realised that she was the last prefect in the office. Everyone else had left rather quickly, unusually.

'Could I have a word?' inquired McGonagall, beckoning her closer.

Hermione was startled. _What could this be about?_ Her heart picked up speed as she suddenly thought of something. What if McGonagall knew about Draco, and was curious as to why Hermione hadn't noted the authorities? What if she knew something, anything? What if she was on to her? 'Why, yes, of course,' Hermione stammered, shuffling closer to the desk.

'Is everything alright?' McGonagall asked, staring at Hermione with a wise and meaningful expression.

Hermione's heart fluttered with relief. It appeared she had overreacted: McGonagall hadn't mentioned anything to do with Draco. 'Yes,' she said quickly. 'Why wouldn't it be?'

'Well, you have been late to every prefect meeting so far. I know it's not like you, Miss Granger,' McGonagall explained, keeping her eyes trained on Hermione as the Gryffindor tried to took everywhere else but the Professor, whose eyes were very scrutinising.

'I know, Professor, I'm sorry. Nothing's wrong, I promise,' Hermione spoke again, grasping that she probably didn't sound very convincing. She thought briefly about making up some excuse, but then she remembered Ginny telling her how bad of a liar she was, and McGonagall was even better at sniffing out the truth than her friend. Instead, she opted to deny anything was wrong. It apparently worked.

'Well, alright then,' McGonagall said slowly. 'But if you want to talk about anything, I'll be in my office,' she finished with a fond smile that made Hermione feel even worse about herself.

'Ok,' she said, trying her best to smile back. 'Thanks, Professor,' she added, before slipping out of the office.

She almost dropped all her belongings when she saw that Draco was waiting for her outside.

'You took your time,' he said with a wry smile.

Hermione didn't know what to say back. Should she smile or frown? Should she be angry? She didn't know, so she just stood there.

'Look,' Draco said, when she didn't speak. 'I'm sorry about Tuesday. Could we… meet in the tower in, say, 10 minutes?' He looked nervous, which was a first.

'What tower?' Hermione said stupidly, just as she remembered the room she and Draco had met in on Monday, the one he had unlocked with the stolen key. 'Oh, right, never mind,' she said before he could tell her.

At this she saw the corner of his mouth turn up slightly, his usually dull grey eyes sparking faintly. He was trying not to laugh. 'Well...?' he asked, tapping his foot.

Hermione mentally shook herself. 'Ok,' she agreed. 'Ten minutes, although it might be a little longer if I can't find it.'

'You have a good memory, you'll be fine' Draco said, before walking off. Hermione's mouth fell open. Did Draco just give her a compliment? This really was the day for firsts. She supposed she was just surprised he was even speaking to her. Shaking her head, she began striding off in the opposite direction, planning to drop off her things and then try to make her way to the meeting point. As she walked away, she remained unaware of Ron, who was watching her retreating figure from behind one of the pillars against the opposite wall to McGonagall's office. And he did not look happy.

* * *

Hermione was pleased with herself. It was around 10 minutes since she had spoken with Draco, and she now found herself stood outside the door to the tower she remembered from her first meeting with him. It hadn't taken her that long to find it- all she had to do was head towards the Slytherin common room way and retrace her steps from there. Sadly, she hadn't found the books she had dropped that day, which were still missing. Hopefully someone had returned them or Madam Prince would not be pleased with her: she never forgave a student who lost one of her precious books. Rolling her shoulders back in an effort to relax herself, Hermione looked left and right to check the coast was clear before trying the door, which was open. Relieved, she entered and immediately began climbing the stairs.

If this tower room became their regular meeting point- if she and Draco were to have 'regular meetings'- one thing was for sure: she would be getting a good workout from climbing the spiral stairs that led to the room, for they seemed to be never-ending! By the time she reached the top she was panting quite heavily, and feeling very warm.

Draco was stood by one of the many barred windows, hands stuffed in his jean pockets, looking out over a view of the hills that surrounded the castle. 'It's beautiful, isn't it?' Hermione said, announcing herself. She made her way to his side, also taking in the scene.

'Yeah,' Draco sighed wistfully. He turned to Hermione. 'I see you made it. I, um, brought you some stuff,' he said, pointing over her shoulder. Hermione spun to see that Draco had brought up two chairs, which he had placed against the wall, and on one of the chairs he had stacked a pile of books- her books, the ones she had dropped when they'd bumped into each other.

Hermione beamed, she couldn't help it. 'I wondered where they'd gone.' She looked at Draco. 'Thanks, Malfoy, you just saved me from the wrath of Madam Prince.'

Draco smirked. 'No problem, Granger.'

'So...' Hermione began. 'Do we sit on the chairs? Please don't say you were planning a re-enactment of Tuesday.'

Draco flushed- something Hermione thought she would never see. It was odd seeing colour painted on his stark white cheeks. He rushed over to the chairs, handing the books to Hermione, and drawing them out towards the centre of the room so that they were facing each other. 'Yeah,' he said. 'We sit.'

Hermione obliged, taking a seat opposite Draco. 'Listen,' Draco continued, pulling at the selves of his sweater hesitantly. Hermione had to admit she enjoyed seeing his nervous gestures: the nail biting, the fiddling. They humanised the Slytherin. 'I'm... sorry about Tuesday. I got freaked out when that bitch of a waitress saw us together. I don't know what-'

'Malfoy, stop,' Hermione said firmly, sitting back and folding her arms. 'I get it. We've hated each other since the day we met. I'm not expecting you to suddenly start confiding in me willingly. You can take your time, I'll be patient.'

'Yeah, well, I overreacted,' Draco insisted. 'It won't happen again. I truly am sorry.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. Draco frowned. 'I'm just impressed you apologised to me,' she said with a light tone to his unanswered question. 'It's like Christmas came early.'

'So you're not mad?' Draco questioned.

'No,' Hermione confirmed.

'How are you so nice?' he asked in mock amazement, running a hand through his tousled hair as if he was genuinely confused.

Hermione laughed. Draco had a funny side? She thought the only humour he knew would be making fun of first years and abusing his prefect duties. 'It's a Gryffindor thing,' she said. 'God, that waitress was a bitch though. Did you see her hair? Major disaster.'

'I don't know much about girls' hairstyles, but I can tell when someone looks hideous. Her hair was frizzier than yours!' Draco laughed back.

'Oi!' Hermione cried. 'I know my hair is a little out of control but no need to be harsh.'

'It's a Slytherin thing,' Draco said with a shrug. 'It is weird though,' he continued, all of a sudden becoming more serious. Hermione stopped laughing abruptly. 'How different our lives are. Gryffindors are always so happy and full of life. Slytherins are all dark and subdued, and I used to love that about being a Slytherin, but these days it all feels...I don't know. Pointless. All we do is cause people misery.'

'That's not true,' Hermione said, although she wasn't sure if she believed herself when she said it. 'Haven't you seen the movies? Dark and mysterious- that's the thing right? You've got to love a bit of danger,' she added, trying to lighten the tone. She didn't know why she was trying to make Draco feel better; after all, all he had done _was_ cause her misery throughout the years at Hogwarts. Yet she wanted to comfort him. Her enemy. And she didn't know why.

Draco laughed sharply. 'Yeah,' he muttered. 'The movies aren't real. And if you're on about that boy who's always dark and enticing- I don't feel that way. I'm not that kind of guy. I just feel cruel, and lately... I guess I'm getting fed up of myself, and this- this persona I have. I'm downright cruel. You've said it yourself! And Slytherins don't have any fun- our jokes are about other people's misfortune, not things that are actually funny.' He sighed dramatically.

'Maybe...' Hermione said slowly, 'it's your own misfortune that made you realise all this? I mean never in a million years did I think I'd be hearing you say you don't like being a Slytherin.'

'What I don't like is being a Death Eater,' Draco said angrily. 'Look,' he pulled up his left sleeve with a violent tug, revealing his Dark Mark. Hermione gaped, and it wasn't just because of the inky black symbol upon his forearm, it was because of all the tiny little scars visible all over his skin. She hadn't noticed them when she'd first seen his mark.

Without thinking, she reached out to run her fingertips lightly over the puckered skin, tracing the lines of every cut. All she could hear was Draco breathing close to her ear, and her own breaths as they grew louder and more uneven. Draco shivered- a movement that shook her to her senses. She pulled back quickly, tucking the brown curls that had fallen loose back behind her ears.

'Um,' she stuttered, not sure what had just happened. When she finally looked up at Draco, she saw that he looked as confused as she did. He drew his sleeve back down slowly. 'Um,' Hermione said again. 'How did you get those?'

'Remember that night in Borgin and Burkes?' Draco said quietly.

'Yeah.'

'Well, when my farther fired that curse at me and shattered all that glass...' Draco trailed off, his eyes wandering to his feet.

'You didn't heal yourself?' Hermione asked in surprise. She definitely remembered that little scene she had witnessed when Lucius had taken his anger out on Draco. It was one of her most vivid memories, one that had really opened her eyes to what was going on.

'No, I tried,' Draco confessed, rubbing his arm subconsciously as he recalled the memory himself. 'But the curse he fired, I don't think it was meant to necessarily hit me. I think it was meant to stop me from healing. I think when it hit the glass... I don't know...'

'Clever,' Hermione admitted sadly. 'Has your father always been like that?' she asked after a brief pause.

Draco's response to her question was quick. 'Yes,' he told her. 'Whenever I did something wrong he'd get mad. At first, it made me more like him. I was angry, and I took that anger out on others. He told me that I had expectations to live up to, as a pure-blood, and that I had to be punished...'

'That's horrible,' Hermione cut in, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat.

'He told us we were better than other magic folk like muggle-borns,' he said, looking anxiously at Hermione as he spoke.

She smiled back at him sadly, to show she wasn't offended. Maybe she should have been, but she wasn't. 'I bet he taught you to call us mudbloods,' she whispered.

Draco nodded, biting his lip. 'And I agreed with him. I thought I was better than you. I thought who you were made you impure and filthy. I thought, I thought...' he trailed off again, putting his head in his hands, his white blonde hair falling forwards.

'You don't think that now?' Hermione asked, her voice so low it was barely audible.

Draco shook his head again. 'Over the past summer, things started to get worse,' he said, his voice muffled by his hands. 'Father was putting more pressure on me, ever since he forced me to become a Death Eater. Officially.'

'He forced you?' Hermione asked.

Draco laughed; but the sound was like nails on a chalk board to Hermione's ears. 'It's not like I ever had a choice. From the day I was born... and I wanted to become one, for such a long time. But back then, I never truly knew what I was doing. I just wanted to make my father proud- I admired him. When I realised what it was really like, well, by then it was too late.' Draco's expression suddenly changed from one of sorrow to one of anger. With a grunt he pushed back from his chair, standing up and beginning to pace with hurried steps. Hermione stood with him.

'Why is it too late?' she asked with curiosity, taking a step towards the riled-up boy pacing in front of her.

'Because this,' he said, tapping his sleeve, 'binds me to the Dark Lord- it means I can never go back. Never. Whatever I do from this point forth he will know about. I am his slave, and he can bend me to his will. If I was to betray him, well...' Draco paused, an emotionless smile on his face. 'I'm easily disposable. I'd be dead before I knew it,' he said with disgust.

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, feeling very unhelpful and very out of her depth. 'You can't remove it?'

'No,' Draco said sadly. 'It's like a brand. Permanent.' He stopped pacing, and lifted his head to meet Hermione's eyes.

She blinked rapidly, an odd sensation of rushing heat washing over her. Her emotions were in turmoil. 'I'm sorry,' she said after a moment of silence. To her ears, her voice sounded shaky.

'I hate what I've become' Draco said simply with a half-hearted shrug. 'I'm trapped, with no way out, and... I'm scared,' he confessed.

Hermione stepped forwards another pace, her soft brown eyes wide and sympathetic. She stopped right in front of where Draco stood. 'I want to help you find a way out,' she said.

Draco's grey eyes were stormy- brimming with so many different emotions that Hermione could not put her finger on. 'Granger, how can you help me?'

'I don't know,' Hermione admitted. 'Malfoy, I don't know. But I'm going to try.'


	7. Meeting On The Bridge

**Hello everyone, thank you for being patient! Here is chapter seven as promised- be wary for some grammatical errors or spelling mistakes as I rushed the editing a bit, but hopefully I managed to spot everything. I'm not sure if the next chapter will be up by next week, so it may be another two week wait unfortunately :( Nevertheless, the week after next is the beginning of the Easter Holidays (because the school I go to finishes on a Wednesday), so I will definitely be able to post then. In the meantime, happy reading...**

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7\. Meeting on the Bridge

That night Hermione couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned for many hours before finally coming to the conclusion that sleep wasn't going to happen. She couldn't help it: her brain was alive, whirring. She'd replayed the whole conversation with Draco over and over in her head, and had been thinking about how in the world she could help him. So far she had come up with nothing, but then again, she supposed that was something they could discuss on Sunday. Before they had separated earlier, Hermione had suggested they meet up again, however instead of using their usual meeting place she'd suggested the old Covered Bridge by the Clock Tower Courtyard- the one that began right at the base of the Clock Tower and ran all the way across the valley to the Sundial Garden at the other end.

Their plan was to meet up at the centre of the bridge just after midday, when Hermione knew most of the sixth year students were headed to Hogsmeade for a day of discounts at the Three Broomsticks. Harry, Ron and Ginny were going, but Hermione had managed to back out, pretending she had a ton of extra coursework from her Ancient Runes class, a class that none of her friends were taking. Luckily, Draco also happened to be taking Ancient Runes, so Hermione predicted this would furthermore be a legitimate excuse for him to use as well. Not many took the class, as it wasn't a hugely popular subject considering there was actually quite a lot of hard work and analytic skill required- a perfect cover for Hermione. Most of the students in the class were from Ravenclaw, along with a handful from Gryffindor and a couple of Slytherins, including Draco, who was actually rather clever if he put the effort in. He was always close behind Hermione in terms of grades.

Hermione took a deep sigh. Draco was like a puzzle she was trying to solve. Who knew that all this time he was hiding someone very sincere behind his arrogant persona? After hearing his confession, Hermione had realised that he was just a boy, afraid of his own family, pulled into something bad he couldn't get out of. She had to admit; she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Ever since he confessed to her, she realised how awful it would be to live a life whereby if you stepped out of line, you would be punished. Whatever you believed in, whatever you wanted to do: it didn't matter. He had no control over his life- he wasn't allowed a choice- and it wasn't fair.

'Hermione,' someone hissed from somewhere in the darkness of the dorm room. _Ginny_ , Hermione concluded, recognising the voice instantly. 'Quit staring at me with those big brown eyes,' her friend continued. 'It's creeping me out.'

'Sorry,' Hermione whispered back, rolling over in her bed with a groan.

'Can't sleep?' Ginny asked.

'No,' Hermione replied. 'You?'

'Not really. In fact, I've just woken up. How long have you been awake?'

'A while,' Hermione said after a pause. She guessed it was best not to mention the fact she hadn't slept at all, and that she'd been awake from the moment she'd clambered into bed.

'Are you ok?' Ginny asked suddenly, heaving herself up to a sitting position in bed, her back resting against the headrest.

Hermione stayed lying on her back, her brown curls fanning across the pillow like a dark halo. 'Of course,' she answered, trying to sound as genuine as possible. She knew Ginny could tell when she was lying. 'Why do you ask?'

'Oh, I don't know.' Ginny waved her hand vaguely, a ghostly flutter in the shadow of the room. 'How you seemed to disappear after that prefect meeting... it just made me wonder. You've been more distant recently, what with the late night walk and that 'knitting thing' in Hogsmeade. You seem more withdrawn- and you're not sleeping. Is there something you want to talk about? It's not Ron is it? Is he getting to you?'

Hermione lay rigid in bed, unsure of how to answer. Was she really that obvious? She supposed she had been frequently going off on her own recently, and her excuses were getting worse. How long had she expected her friends not to notice? 'Nothing's up, really,' she said. 'I've just been thinking a lot about how this year… school seems different. With all that's been going on, don't you think it's a bit strange how we're just at school, having normal days, like nothing is going on? There are people out there preparing for a war, and we're just taking classes like nothing is happening… I guess I'm just wondering when it's all going to end. At some point, I know everything is going to change. And I have a feeling it's going to be soon.'

'Wow,' Ginny said after a long moment of silence. With a creak of old bed springs, she flopped back down against her mattress. 'You've got some deep stuff going on inside your head. Sure Ron has nothing to do with it?'

'Well,' Hermione said, 'he's still mad at me after Hogsmeade, but I'm not worried about that. He's not what I'm hung up on, if that's what you mean.'

'You know he's only mad because he cares about you,' Ginny said. 'He's probably just worried about you, too. He wants you to be ok.'

'Why would you think that?'

'Oh, you know...' Ginny trailed off, leaving the two girls in an uncomfortable silence. But Hermione already knew what she meant about Ron caring about her. She had known for a while now that Ron 'liked' her, and not just as a friend. He really liked her, feelings she had once reciprocated, but now things were a bit more complicated. They had been falling out a lot, and she was too messed up to think about a relationship at the current moment.

'You know, Hermione,' Ginny said after a while, her voice softening. 'When you say things are different now, at school, they don't have to be if you don't want that.' _Easier said than done_ , Hermione thought to herself as Ginny carried on speaking. 'You can forget about the rest of the world for now, at least for a little while. Enjoy yourself, don't let things get to you.'

Hermione sighed. She respected her friend for trying to comfort her, but sadly relaxing would not be possible. Ginny just couldn't know about her issues with Draco. 'Thanks,' was all she said in return.

'It's ok. Just know that if you don't lighten up, I will not stand for another minute next to an angry Ronald. I have to warn you I may get violent.'

Hermione laughed. 'I'll keep that in mind.'

* * *

The next day was another glorious one. It was as if the weather was contradicting her mood. As Hermione made her way down to the Covered Bridge in the early afternoon, the sun was beating down on her hard; making her pleased she had opted to wear a t-shirt instead of a jumper alongside her jeans and converse combo. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and the fusillade of bird song reminded her of a blissful day at the park, not a day inside school grounds.

Once she was stood at the foot of the Clock Tower, she found herself staring down the path of a long, narrow, derelict bridge constructed of wooden beams which extended to the floor of the ravine it laid across. The roof of the bridge was sagging slightly in the middle, and appeared rather tattered. Overall, the whole thing didn't look entirely safe, but Hermione knew there was no risk of the bridge collapsing. It had been a part of Hogwarts for years, and anyway, it was probably kept stable by magic.

Yet again, she had arrived after Draco. He was already standing right at the centre of the bridge, his arms resting on the wooden hand rail as he leaned forwards, looking out across the hills that surrounded Hogwarts Castle. It was a beautiful sight with the hilly landscape rolling into the distance and out of sight, patches of trees and dense forest areas dotted about, the wide lake that sparkled like diamonds in the afternoon sun. There wasn't another soul in sight, and the quietness of it all resulted in a perfectly peaceful atmosphere. Hermione felt like she could stand on the bridge, in this moment, forever.

'You're going to say: It's beautiful, isn't it?' Draco said without turning round, as Hermione came to stand beside him.

'Well, I'd be right,' Hermione replied, also resting her arms against the rail. 'You can't beat this.'

'Mmm,' Draco murmured in agreement, before the two lapsed into silence. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, though. In fact, it felt like the complete opposite to Hermione. She found herself feeling more at ease than she had done in days, merely standing and allowing herself to take in the picturesque scenery. The view from the bridge was truly wonderful, and having Draco by her side didn't make her feel awkward at all, for somehow she knew he was feeling the same way. They were both content.

It was Draco who broke the silence, although his quiet voice didn't startle Hermione. 'Sometimes I just stand in that tower, looking out of the window, for hours.' He pointed to one of the castle towers that was visible from where they stood. If she squinted, Hermione could just make out the barred windows that she recognised to be from the tower where they met. 'It's a great place to go on your own, when you need some time by yourself to think about things and just get away from it all. I know I won't be interrupted, because no one else has a key, and it's not like it's used for anything,' Draco explained.

'I didn't think you were the contemplative type,' Hermione said.

Draco glanced at her sideways with a sly grin. 'There's a lot you don't know about me, Granger.'

'And there's also a lot I do know,' Hermione added. 'Although I'm sure the rest... I don't want to know.'

Draco grinned at this, and without thinking he reached out to brush a stray curl back from Hermione's face. His fingers brushed lightly against her cheek, causing her to feel a tingling sensation. She gave a small gasp. His fingertips were cold, but she knew that wasn't why she found herself shivering. Neither of them moved, for a moment, Draco's hand still in Hermione's hair. When they locked eyes, Draco withdrew his hand quickly.

'Have you thought about how you're going to help me?' he asked. He sounded a little breathless.

'I have,' Hermione said slowly. 'Nothing so far.' She looked up again, into Draco's eyes. This close, they appeared to be a darker grey than normal- the colour of a thunderstorm, as opposed to the usual lighter grey- clouds on a rainy day. 'I'm sorry I've not been more help,' she whispered.

'Don't apologise,' Draco said. 'We've still got time. And you have been helpful. Yesterday, I... I felt a lot better after our talk. Confiding in you helped me a lot, so...thank you.'

Hermione smiled at him. 'I knew talking about it would help. It's all about confronting your fears.'

'I bet you read that somewhere,' Draco said with a brief laugh.

'Probably,' Hermione agreed, sceptically. 'But I also know from talking to my friends about my issues. It's always helped me get through a tough time.'

'You have tough times?'

'Of course. Everyone does. And plus we argue all the time. Ron is a nightmare...'

'Weasley?' Draco asked in mock surprise. 'Never would have guessed.' He stopped suddenly, his face darkening slightly. 'Wait, I'm not... taking you away from your friends am I?'

'No,' Hermione was quick to blurt out. 'I... you... actually,' she said, 'you've given me a break. I wasn't really in the mood to endure the chaos of Hogsmeade today anyway.' Although there was no denying it, ever since she had been meeting with Draco, she had grown more distant from her friends. On the other hand, this didn't seem to bother her. It wasn't as if she was ignoring them completely. She still spent most of the day with them, but now she felt she also needed to dedicate time to Draco, who was in need of her help. She wasn't sure if she considered him a friend, though. She wasn't even sure what he was to her.

'As long as you're certain,' Draco said waveringly.

'I am!' Hermione insisted, all of a sudden feeling a little irritated. She didn't want Draco to start getting concerned about her over nothing. She was fed up of dealing with her overprotective friends as it was.

'Well,' Draco ran a hand through his hair, 'I've never seen you without those guys. You're like... the golden trio. You're always together- inseparable,' he said tightly.

'Well maybe that was the problem,' Hermione snapped, not sure quite why she was getting so angry. She saw Draco regarding her inquisitively. He could tell she was getting annoyed. 'I'm,' she said, realising her voice had raised an octave or so, 'sorry. I'm sorry. But it's fine, honestly.'

'Ok...,' Draco sighed.

'Things are different, now,' she persisted.

'Very true,' was Draco's response. 'You kind of lead a double life now. All because you couldn't help but follow me that night to the Room of Requirement.'

Hermione doubled back when Draco said this. He had sounded...off. Almost like he was angry that she had followed him. 'What do you mean? Are you pissed that I did? Follow you, I mean.'

'Not really,' Draco huffed, although he sounded rather vague. 'I was just wondering why you _were_ following me.'

'Because,' Hermione retorted, suddenly irritated again, 'you were acting all shady, and I was curious. I guess I wanted to bust you for doing something illegal. I could tell you were up to something. But then it all changed... and here I am. Here _we_ are.'

'Hmm, what were you doing up that late anyway?' Draco inquired, one eyebrow raised. 'I assume that's how you found me, and I expect you weren't stalking me beforehand?'

'No, I wasn't,' Hermione said firmly. 'And I was on prefect duty.'

'Prefects aren't allowed out that late. I made sure of it. I was trying not to be seen, remember? And I'm not stupid,' Draco replied.

'Fine, but you didn't see me, did you?' Hermione said. She cleared her throat when Draco gave her a look. 'Ok, not the point. I was... out for a walk, you know, to clear my head.'

'Granger,' Draco said with piercing eyes, 'you expect me to believe that you were just out for a walk? You've probably never broken a single rule in your entire life.'

'Actually, I've broken many. You don't know me, Malfoy,' Hermione said accusingly, narrowing her eyes. To her surprise, Draco's eyes softened.

'But I want to,' he breathed. Hermione stared at him, and she found herself experiencing that feeling again. The one where she went all tingly and time seemed to stand still. It was just her and Draco, and everything was as clear as day. Every little movement he made- she noticed, but at the same time, she didn't. She felt as if she was in a dream. Their eyes locked, and held, for what felt like an infinite moment. And then their gaze broke when, this time, Hermione looked away. She turned her head to the side, to look out across the valley, her emotions a mess... again. Why did Draco do this to her?

Her eyes flickered back to Draco's again, and then shifted away awkwardly when she saw that he was still staring at her, a slightly frenzied look about him. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him finally turn, and she heard him clear his throat. 'I don't want to do this,' he said.

'Do what?'

'I can't assassinate Dumbledore! I just- can't do it. I know I can't. W-what will happen when my father finds out? When- when the Dark Lord-'

'He's not your Lord,' Hermione broke in. 'No one is.' She sounded pretty stubborn to her own ears, and even though she wasn't looking at Draco, she noticed a small movement she believed to be a smile at her words.

' _Voldemort_ , then,' he said, pausing, testing the foreign word on his tongue. 'Whoa, that sounds weird.'

'Weird?'

'A good kind of weird. He sounds like... the enemy.'

'He is the enemy. And saying his name... it proves you're not afraid of him, not really. You're brave, Malfoy, and we'll stop this,' Hermione said, facing him.

Draco glanced at her with sad eyes. 'You're going to promise me, now?'

'You know I promised,' Hermione said. 'Don't you ever forget it.' She looked at Draco again, who was stood looking rather forlorn, a slight, wobbly smile playing on his lips. Without thinking, Hermione stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

Oddly enough, hugging Draco didn't feel strange. She wasn't sure why she did it, and for a few seconds Draco stood, unmoving, his hands still by his sides, probably in shock. When Hermione didn't let go, Draco finally wrapped his arms around her, too, burying his head in her shoulder. She mimicked his actions, pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, and tightening her hold on him. And that's how they stood: holding each other, in silence, and in comfort.

* * *

 **Next chapter coming soon... Please review, and thank you for taking the time to read! :D**


	8. Quidditch

**Happy Easter, everybody! Sorry it's been quite a while since I last posted, but the wait is no longer! I have finally managed to write the next chapter, but I've been** **très busy so I apologise for that. Hopefully you won't have to wit as long for the next instalment, however I'm not making any promises... Nevertheless I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has liked, followed or reviewed this story so far- it honestly does make me extremely happy and provides me with motivation to continue writing as I enter the stressful period of revision. So without further ado... happy reading :)**

* * *

8\. Quidditch

'First match of the season,' Harry said nervously, passing the handle of his broom between his hands. He was stood at the base of one of the spectator towers surrounding the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch. He was dressed in the typical red and gold attire for the Gryffindor team, and beside him stood Ron, also sporting the team colours- plus a rather ugly leather head protector that buckled under his chin. They were preparing for their first Quidditch match of the year; a match that tended to be the most anticipated, for it was the match of the two biggest rivals: Gryffindor and Slytherin.

'I can't believe you were made captain, Harry,' Ginny squealed, pulling Hermione up behind her as they went to stand with the boys. She was eying the silver badge Harry wore that was engraved with a 'C' for Captain. 'I knew you would have to get it eventually- you're by far the best player on the team!'

At this, Ron gave a sharp cough, turning Ginny's attention to him. 'Oh, boo-hoo, Ronald,' Ginny cried sarcastically, giving him a light shove. 'Harry's been playing way longer than you have. And, by the way, you look like a dork with that thing on your head.' She pointed to his protection gear accusingly.

Hermione stepped forwards, feeling it was best she changed the subject before things got messy between the Weasleys, despite the fact Ron still had refused to speak to her since Tuesday. 'That gives you equal status with prefects!' she said to Harry with excitement, referring back to his captaincy. 'You can use our special bathroom now and everything.'

'Actually, I don't think I can dock points like prefects can,' Harry said, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.

'And, Ginny,' she continued. 'Harry is not 'the best' player. Don't get me wrong, he is certainly one of the best. He's the best seeker. But Ron is better at being keeper. Every team member has a speciality, making them all equally as good,' she finished, eyeing Ron meaningfully. She was fed up of his attitude, and she really wanted to make up. It had been almost a week they had gone without speaking to one and other, and that was a record. He didn't usually hold a grudge this long, so Hermione knew something was up. She just wished he would talk to her about it.

'Whatever,' Ron muttered without meeting her eye. He slung his broomstick over his shoulder and marched off towards the pitch without looking back.

'He's still mad at you?' Ginny said with an exasperated huff as she looked over at Hermione.

'Yes!' Hermione said. 'And I've tried to get him to talk to me, but nothings worked. I'm even being nice! I just gave him compliment, for Merlin's sake!'

'This is the longest they've ever been fighting,' Harry added, casting a worried glance at Ron's back. He hesitated. 'I'd better go after him...' He turned to run after Ron, but Hermione grabbed his sleeve before he could go.

'Will you speak to him for me?' she pleaded, making her eyes as big and round and innocent as she could.

Harry faltered slightly. 'I'll try,' he said eventually, pulling from Hermione's grip and hurrying away.

'Something is definitely up with Ron,' Ginny said as she watched Harry's retreating figure with eager eyes.

'You're telling me,' Hermione agreed with a sigh. She began to ascend the steps to the top of the Gryffindor spectator tower, Ginny following her lead.

'Harry looks so gorgeous in red though,' Ginny continued, with a wistful note to her voice. Hermione hated to think of what Ginny was imagining right at that second.

'Ugh, Ginny! Just tell him how you feel.'

'It's not that simple,' Ginny replied, only half focused as she continued to fantasise about Harry, causing Hermione to roll her eyes, again. She was surprised her eyes weren't damaged, considering the number of times her friends made her roll them.

Eventually, the two made it back out into open air when they reached the top of the tower. Hermione was immediately met by a blast of icy wind- it was much colder higher up- that made her feel glad she'd opted to wear a jacket. The stands were already packed full of people, but she soon spotted Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown (the two other girls in her dorm, and good friends of Hermione) waving to them from the front seats. She and Ginny quickly made their way over, shoving past the other Gryffindor members who were already shouting and stamping their feet in anticipation, red and gold striped banners waving above their heads. Hermione eagerly looked out over the Quidditch pitch: a large, oval shaped pitch that measured approximately 500 feet long and 180 feet wide with a small central circle around 2 feet in diameter, from which all the different balls were released at the start of the game. At each end of the pitch stood three hooped goal posts of different heights, surrounded by a marked out scoring area. As Quidditch was an aerial sport, all the seating was at high vantage points. Hermione could see all the other spectator towers covered in the house colours they represented. She could also see the tower where the teachers watched the match from, whilst keeping the score.

Each tower was jam packed. Since it was the first match of the season, it was a very popular occasion, and practically the whole school had turned up. Gryffindor and Slytherin matches tended to be rather intense, and always ended up going either way. In last year's tournament, Gryffindor won the Inter-house Quidditch cup, but you could never underestimate the Slytherin team. Hermione always described their style as brutal, whereas she liked to think of the Gryffindor team as tactical. Although she never openly admitted it, she was always excited and rather proud to see Ron and Harry play Quidditch. The game always seemed to lighten her mood, as long as no one was seriously injured, and she hoped that today's match would have a similar affect. Beside her, Ginny, Parvati and Lavender were all chattering in bubbly voices, but Hermione was paying more attention to the pitch below.

If she leaned forward far enough, she could see the two teams walking towards each other from opposite ends of the pitch: Gryffindor in their scarlet red cloaks, Slytherin in green. From this far away, it was impossible to make out each individual. Luckily, Hermione had brought along her old binoculars, allowing her to get a clearer look at the action. After a little fiddling with the lens, she managed to achieve the right amount of focus, enough so that she could easily see the faces of the team members down on the ground. She moved the binoculars around until she caught sight of Harry, who was leading the Gryffindor players towards the centre. Ron was just behind him, still looking rather moody. He seemed to be glaring daggers across at the Slytherin team- which was never a good sign.

Hermione used her binoculars as a means of following Ron's gaze. To her shock, she found her eyes resting upon a rather arrogant-looking Draco, who was laughing coldly along with a few other members of the Slytherin team. Even from where she was sat, Hermione could tell he was unhappy. It was odd how she could know this, but she did. Draco was usually much more outrageously confident before Quidditch matches. He would usually roam around the outskirts of the pitch for ages with his mates, calling out insults, but Hermione hadn't seen him all morning- not even at breakfast. As she watched him laugh, she noticed how his eyes darted about, unfocused, and although he was putting on a good act, she could tell he didn't really want to be there. She hoped Ron had just been collectively glaring at the entirety of the Slytherin team, and not just at Draco. Maybe her gaze had happened to fall on him by chance?

She watched with a growing anxiety as the two teams stopped either side of the chest containing the Quidditch balls. She watched as Harry and Vaisey (the Slytherin captain) appeared to exchange a few words, then lean in to shake hands. Draco hung back, his arms folded around his broom. This immediately reminded Hermione of the day before, when they had been stood on that bridge, wrapped in each other's arms. It was a memory that felt so real and yet so unreal at the same time. On the other hand, Ron was stood as if he were a wild animal ready to pounce, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Hermione bit her lip. She had never seen a Ronald Weasley this angry: usually he was rather cheerful and concentrated very hard during a game. Right now he looked as if he wanted to murder someone, and she had a feeling that someone was Draco, although she had no idea why. Yes- Ron hated the Slytherin, but in matches she felt he had always been rather sensible about it. He hated all Slytherins, which tended to make him play better in order to win the match and beat them, and he never really encountered Draco in a game anyway. Like Harry, Draco was a Seeker, and their objective was to catch the Golden Snitch in order to win 150 points for their team. Seekers didn't often score goals.

'Hermione, are you alright?' Ginny asked in her ear, causing her to jump. She lowered her binoculars quickly. 'What's going on down there?' her friend asked, not waiting to hear a reply to her first question.

'They're just about to start,' Hermione called back, finding that she had to shout above the racket of the cheering Gryffindors. As if her words were magic, as soon as she spoke all the players below began to clamber onto their broomsticks and rise into the air. Her eyes darted about as she watched Harry, Ron and Draco find their positions on the pitch, hovering on their brooms as they waited for the match to begin.

She saw the tiny figure of Madam Hooch, the games professor, standing by the central circle. She was shouting something Hermione couldn't hear, for her ears were buzzing in anticipation. Then Madam Hooch released the balls with a hoot of her whistle. The two Bludgers and the Snitch flew off on their own as they were bewitched to do so, whilst Hooch tossed the Quaffle high into the air herself. It was immediately swept up by Harry, and the match was away.

After a good 10 minutes of play, the score was tied at 150 points each. It was an extremely close match- every time a Gryffindor player scored, a Slytherin player would equal that score within minutes. It looked as if as soon as a team got their hands on the Quaffle, they would make their way down to the other end of the pitch, and then they would proceed to score. Both of the keepers appeared to be having a bad day, as neither Ron nor the Slytherin Keeper had saved a single goal. After another 5 minutes, Harry called for a break.

Hermione watched as the two teams huddled together on the ground, both in deep discussion. The crowds continued to make noise; however, they were slightly more subdued due to the game's slow start.

'What was all that about?' Ginny asked Hermione, who stared back at her blankly. Ginny caught her expression and tried again. 'What's up with Ron?'

'Do you think it's because of me?' Hermione wondered.

'No,' Ginny responded quickly. 'He's not concentrating. He's been looking around the whole time so far, but he's not looking towards the stands. He's not paying attention to the ball- it's maddening,' Ginny cried in frustration. 'What could he be looking for?'

'No idea,' Hermione said, putting an arm around her friend in comfort. But of course she had an idea: for some reason, Ron had been looking out for Draco. Had Draco said something recently that had upset Ron? Perhaps he'd caught wind of a rumour Draco had supposedly started about him? Hermione continued to dwell on this as the game restarted.

Soon, the players were up in the air again, and back in play. Everything was going more smoothly- obviously both team captains had had words with their keepers, who were actually saving goals now. Every time Ron caught the Quaffle a massive cheer rose up from the Gryffindor stands. Usually, Ron would be grinning and doing ridiculous flips on his broom by this point. Instead, he didn't even crack a smile, tossing the ball out to Harry hard and fast. The game went on.

Gryffindor scored twice more, moving them into a 20-point lead. Hermione, mid celebration, looked over to see Harry had spotted the Snitch, and was proceeding to nose dive after it. As he descended, he flew straight through the middle of two Slytherins passing the Quaffle to one another. His hand shot out, grabbing the ball and tossing it straight over his head. Another Gryffindor swooped in to retrieve it. Hermione couldn't help but smile smugly to herself, whilst beside her Ginny began to hysterically chant Harry's name. He was good, there was no denying that.

Her eyes continued to follow Harry's path as he changed course, suddenly veering vertically upwards to keep the Snitch in sight. By this point, all the Gryffindors were noticing Harry's pursuit, and the cheering and chanting suddenly grew a lot louder. Hermione had to cover her ears thanks to a particularly loud screamer right behind her, who also kept hitting her accidentally with the stick of the sign he was holding. She saw Draco coming to join the chase from the left, drawing up his broom in line with Harry's in one smooth motion. The snitch, a small golden blur to Hermione's eyes, appeared to fly straight through one of the on looking towers in front of them. Harry drew his stick up sharply to fly over the tower, whilst Draco threw his weight sideways, causing him to go spinning off back towards the pitch. He managed to regain his composure quite well, earning encouraging shouts from the Slytherins. Shaking his head, she saw him fly back to Harry's side, this time coming in a little ahead of the Gryffindor Seeker.

It all happened so fast. Harry and Draco were flying towards the Gryffindor goal posts, still in hot pursuit of the Snitch. Harry was flying on Draco's outside, and was being slowly forced to his left as Draco flew at an angle. At this rate, Harry would hit the closest post unless he drew back. But he wouldn't. Ginny was screaming for him to watch out, but Hermione could barely hear her. She dropped her binoculars, her eyes widening as the two battling Seekers flew closer and closer to the posts. The Snitch in front of them passed right through one of the hoops. At the last second, Harry swerved out the way, but as he did, he caught Draco with the back of his broom with quite some force. Letting out a short cry, Draco desperately tried to right himself before slipping. He was now in the path of Ron, the goal keeper. Another Slytherin, someone Hermione didn't recognise, had used the distraction with the Seekers to sneak up to the goal. He threw the Quaffle, but Ron span round on his broom, hitting it away with an angry shout.

Time seemed to slow as Hermione watch the Quaffle soar through the air towards Draco. It hit him hard on the back as he continued to grapple with his own broom. He had no chance, the force of the hitting him like a vicious shove: he wasn't properly balanced and he hadn't even seen the ball. He was completely unprepared. He toppled forwards, dropping to the ground like a stone.

Hermione shot up from her seat in blind terror. 'DRACO!' she screamed at the top of her lungs. The rest of the world had gone silent. There were people all around her, but they were just shapes in the background. All she could see was the figure in green tumbling downwards through the air. Draco hit the ground with a sickening crack. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth with a sharp gasp. She could feel a strange, prickly heat behind her eyes. Draco lay in a crumpled heap, his face to the ground, unmoving.

What happened next she wasn't sure. The game was in uproar: all the players halted mid-flight, staring. The crowds were yelling, pointing, rushing forwards in the stands to see what had happened. Their cries and words only seemed to pass over Hermione's head. She merely stood in the same position she was in when she had first stood up, her hands slowly lowering back down again. She looked to Ginny, who was staring at her, wide-eyed. Her own eyes were also wide- wide with fear- and also moist. Her mouth hung open, and she was shaking all over. Ginny's mouth opened too. Hermione saw her form a word. It was her name. But she couldn't hear it. All she could think about was Draco. Was he dead? She didn't know. He was definitely badly injured. Was he ok? She needed to know if he was ok. She needed to see him. She didn't know why, but she needed to see him. Her mind was racing as she surged forwards, pushing her way through the crowds until she had a clear view of the pitch.

The players were lowering to the ground, walking away. The match was cancelled. She caught a glimpse of a limp blonde figure being rushed away on a stretcher, a huddle of teachers and medics surrounding him. Draco. Hermione turned and ran with only one thought- she _had_ to see him. She headed for the stairs, a hand grabbing at her and trying to pull her back. It was Ginny, calling for her. She ran on.

At the foot of the stairs she ran straight into Ron, who was on his way up. He was panting, as if he had been running. Seeing his face this close brought Hermione back to reality. The world slid into focus again. The muted voices became louder.

'Hermione?' He sounded surprised, not angry. In fact, he looked nothing at all like he had out on the pitch. His face was flushed, and to Hermione he seemed to be rather panicked, his hands opening and closing together in a nervous gesture. It was also the first time he had properly acknowledged her- and spoken her name- in a long time. 'Where are you going?' he asked her.

'I…,' Hermione said, faltering. She couldn't tell him she had been going to see Draco, but she couldn't think of what else to say. 'I was- I was coming to find you,' she lied.

At her hesitation, Ron's face darkened. 'No you weren't,' he said bitterly. His eyes suddenly lit up, but not with delight. It was as if he had just had a terrible realisation. 'I know what you were doing. You were off to see Malfoy, weren't you? I saw you with him the other day, outside McGonagall's office. I saw you actually _converse_ with him! Don't try to deny it. I saw it all.' Ron's eyes were blazing with anger as he glared at her, waiting for her reply.

Hermione's mouth was hanging open. She was speechless. Ron had seen her with Draco? It was a horrifying prospect, but it explained why he had been watching Draco the entire Quidditch match. For a moment, she thought that her secret second life was over. If Ron knew- he would tell everybody! Then she remembered Ron had only seen her talking to Draco. He knew nothing about what was going on. He also didn't really know that she was going to see him now- he had only been making an accusation, and she could use that to her advantage. 'Fine,' she said, trying to level her tone of voice to match Ron's. This lie had to pay off. 'I was going to see Malfoy. I was going to check that he was alright after _you_ hit him with that Quaffle. He could be seriously injured, Ron, and it's _your fault_. And, by the way, I saw you the other day- watching me and Malfoy outside McGonagall's office. I knew you'd get the wrong idea, so I tried to speak with you about it, but you've been ignoring me ever since Hogsmeade!'

Ron spluttered, turning an even deeper shade of red than he was already. He looked as if he were about to explode in a mixture of anger and confusion. 'What?' he shouted. 'Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. I know you're lying. You've got something going with Malfoy, I know it.'

'It's the truth, Ronald,' Hermione snapped. 'When Malfoy was talking to me after the Prefect's meeting, he was asking me about an Ancient Runes project we're doing in class, and believe me, he didn't want to be. There is nothing going on between us! The thought makes me sick.'

Ron narrowed his eyes, refusing to give up. 'He didn't look like he didn't want to speak with you,' he spat.

Hermione almost screamed with frustration. Although she didn't want to lie about this, her relationship with Draco had to be kept a secret- for everybody's sake. And Ron was making it very difficult for her. She hated having to betray him, but his accusations were only making her angrier. 'You're delusional, Ron!' she yelled.

'Why did you lie then?' Ron yelled back. Both were shouting now, earning a lot of sideways glances from the Gryffindors exiting the tower behind them.

'What?' Hermione asked, perplexed.

'Why did you lie when you were going after Malfoy? You said you were coming to find me. _You lied_.'

'Oh, stop trying to twist things, Ronald,' Hermione cried, flinging her arms about wildly in her anger. 'I lied to you just now because I knew if I told you the truth, you would flip! I didn't have time to explain things to you, and I knew, as always, that you wouldn't understand.'

'As always?' Ron fired in response. He was beginning to shake, and he was now so red Hermione worried he would pass out. 'I wouldn't understand, _as always?_ What's that supposed to mean? Are you trying to make this about us?' he practically screamed, his voice going slightly hoarse.

'This _is_ about us!' Hermione screamed back. 'With you it's always about us! When it's me involved with someone you don't like, you always jump to conclusions. You always have a go at me. It's barbaric, and you have to stop. You don't control my life, and who I see. I get to decided that.'

'No, you don't,' Ron fought, pointing his finger at Hermione critically. His expression was livid. 'Not when it comes to him. Not when it's Malfoy.'

Hermione did let out a cry of frustration this time. 'I don't have time for this,' she said finally. Still glowering, she stormed past Ron, shoving him out the way. As she passed him, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder, forcefully spinning her back round to face him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione got there first. ' _Don't touch me_ ,' she snarled, with such hatred in her voice that it caused Ron to drop his hand immediately, his eyes widening in surprise at her hurtful tone.

Hermione stalked off, truly hating him at that moment. In fact, she felt as if she had never hated anyone more, not even Draco. Ron Weasley, one of her best friends, had all but admitted he liked to control her life. And that was something she really didn't want to be dealing with. He had never been so cruel to her, not ever. Even though she was lying to his face, it was for his own good. Clearly, he couldn't handle the truth. He couldn't even handle a glimpse of the truth. Shaking her head, Hermione continued onwards in the direction of the hospital ward, without looking back.


	9. Behind The Curtain

**Sorry for the long wait, but my posts may be a bit erratic from now on during the lead up to my exams, what with revision and all that. Nevertheless, here is chapter nine. Remember to review if you're feeling like making me happy, and as always... happy reading :)**

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9\. Behind The Curtain

Hermione had been waiting all afternoon for the hospital wing to empty. When she had finally made it to the doorway, she had known immediately that it would be unwise to enter. The room- a long, rectangular space complete with beds lining each wall- had been packed full of people: school nurses, teachers, Draco's Slytherin friends and the like. It was obvious the injuries he'd obtained were quite serious, which worried Hermione greatly. Madam Pomfrey, the head nurse, had been scuttling around the place manically shouting orders and pushing people out of the way. There had been a curtain draw around one of the far beds, and most of the people were crowding around that area. Hermione guessed that was where Draco was. She couldn't have gone in, because what would everyone have thought? No one knew that they had been meeting up, and no one knew why. To them, Hermione and Draco hated each other. A Gryffindor would never come to check on a Slytherin in the hospital wing. It was unheard of.

So whilst standing in the doorway, it was then that Hermione made the sensible decision to wait until nobody was around before going to see Draco. Luckily, she had slipped away before anyone had seen her hovering there like a fool. In order to wait, but stay hidden, she had hauled up in an empty classroom nearby, across a small grass courtyard. The windows of the classroom overlooked the windows of the hospital wing, so Hermione could view who was in the room at all times. She could also see the curtains that signalled to her where Draco's bed was. She signed, knowing that he was lying behind the veil of material, and that he had no idea she was watching from barely a way away.

Her best chance was to sneak in when it was dark. That meant around evening or night time. This was the time when the nurses left to go to their own quarters, leaving the patients to sleep. As chance had it, Draco was the only patient, which made Hermione very relieved. If she was careful, there was little chance she would be spotted. Sometimes the nurses would come back to check up on patients who needed to be treated overnight. Hermione prayed that Draco would not need this kind of attention, and if he did, she hoped she could avoid being seen.

To pass the time, she'd located a couple of books she'd never read before in the classrooms store cupboard- the place the professors kept all the spare equipment they needed to teach. They weren't books you would find in the library, or else there was a high chance Hermione had already read them. They were the sort of books you had to buy in Diagon Alley before term began- books that everyone needed a copy of. The reason she hadn't read them was because she'd happened to complete an advanced placement of the course requiring the information a couple of years back. These books were the core copies, and although she knew most of what was written, they were the only things that would keep her occupied and stop her from going mad with boredom. She knew if she just sat and did nothing, she would eventually just get up and storm into the hospital wing, no matter who was in there. She could barely wait any longer, and she still had no idea if Draco was ok. She didn't like to think of what could be lying ahead for him if he wasn't…

She could- and probably should have- gone back to lessons. She assumed they would be resuming after the Quidditch match anyway, with or without the cancellation happening. The only reason she didn't was because all her afternoon lessons were lessons with Ron, and she didn't think she could bear to be near him for the time being. She would just have to come up with a legitimate excuse later. She knew what she was doing was risky. If she was planning to see Draco, she would have to sneak back to the Gryffindor common room quite late, and she was pretty certain there would be questions asked, but that was something she could worry about later. For now, there was something more important on her mind.

She had no idea what the time was when the last nurse left the hospital wing. It was quite dark outside, but not so dark that it was obviously late. When Hermione looked out one of the many windows in the classroom, all she could see were grey clouds filling the sky, so she couldn't tell if the moon was out yet. She waited a few minutes after the nurse had left before heading round, wanting to make sure the nurse wasn't just going to retrieve something before returning. When she didn't come back after a while, Hermione assumed it was safe. Feelings nervous, she slipped out into the corridor and tip-toed a little way along it.

She looked up at the big double-doors that marked the entrance to the hospital wing, looking left and right to check the coast was clear. Then, with a deep breath, she turned the handle, swung the door open a few inches and stepped inside. The curtains that had been around Draco's bed were pulled back, and Hermione could see that he was sat up, propped against a couple of pillows. As soon as she closed the door, his head shot up, and he turned to look at her. Gulping, Hermione quickly made her way over to him, his eyes following her as she approached him. His bed was right at the end of the ward, but it didn't take her long to get there.

When she did, she quickly drew the curtains closed again, before coming to stand at the foot of his bed, unsure of what to do next. From a distance, she hadn't been able to see him clearly, but now- close up- she could see that he looked awful. He had a black eye, a split lip and his arm was in a sling. His skin was even paler than usual, almost translucent in the dim light. She couldn't see below his waist, which was covered by a thrall of blankets, but she could make out the outline of something bulky covering his legs, like a cast.

He was watching her as she stood there taking it all in, her eyes travelling over every inch of him, filled with a deep sorrow. She finally opened her mouth to speak, her lower lip trembling. 'Oh, Draco…' she breathed in horror. This was what Ron had done to him. She couldn't imagine anything worse.

Their eyes met, and Hermione couldn't help but frown. Draco's eyes were bright with wonder, shining through the darkness of the room. She was about to ask him why in the world he looked so happy, when he spoke. 'You said my name,' he whispered, so quietly Hermione almost missed the words.

'What?'

'You've said it twice now. I heard you- on the Quidditch pitch. When I fell, the last thing I heard was your voice, screaming my name. And you said it just now.'

'Draco…' Hermione started.

'There you go again,' he cut in, his voice hoarse.

'Draco,' Hermione repeated, testing the word on her tongue. A word she had never before spoken aloud until today. She laughed quietly at the obscurity of it, and Draco laughed along with her, although his laugh was more of a painful squeak. He broke off into a fit of wheezing coughs, doubling over. Without thinking, Hermione rushed to his side and placed her hands on his shoulders in a gesture of comfort. Once he had finished coughing, her eyes searched his face with worry. 'Are you ok?' she asked in concern.

'I'm fine,' Draco insisted, his eyes finding hers again. He paused. Then he said it. 'Hermione.' She smiled at him. 'Hermione Granger,' he said again. 'It feels strange to say that.'

'Strange like the first time you said 'Voldemort'?' Hermione teased.

'No,' Draco croaked in defence. 'A good kind of strange.' He grinned up at her. 'I like it.'

'Me, too,' Hermione said, and she meant it.

Draco patted the bed by his side. 'Sit with me,' he pleaded, chewing his lip timidly.

Hermione nodded at once. 'Of course,' she replied, perching on the edge of the mattress, facing him.

'I had a feeling you would come to see me,' Draco said with a warm smile. 'Don't ask me why, I just did.'

Hermione returned his smile, but hers was a smile filled with sadness, not a joyous one like Draco's. She still wasn't sure as to why he seemed so cheerful, especially given his current condition. If she were Draco, she would have been livid at Ron, or at least she would have been upset. 'Draco,' she said (a little hesitantly- she wasn't quite used to addressing him on a first name basis), 'I'm sorry for what Ron did to you. I'm not even sure if it was an accident or if it was on purpose, but I can assure you that I am very, very mad at him. When I saw you falling…' she paused, unsure of how to voice what she was feeling. 'It was the most frightened I've ever been.'

'There's no need to be concerned,' Draco assured her, running his hand up and down her arm with a touch as light as a feather. The contact caused Hermione to shiver all over. She felt that she should be the one comforting Draco, not the other way around. 'I'm alright now.'

'No, you're not,' she said. 'You're badly injured, you-'

'I'm ok,' Draco pressed, the hand that had been stroking her arm moving to hold her hand. She didn't pull away when his fingers entwined with hers. 'If anything, I've been blessed.'

'What do you mean?' Hermione asked, a little frustrated by his nonchalance.

'I mean that, although it hurts, it's a good thing that I'm injured. Once my father hears about this, he'll have to postpone my mission. It… it was supposed to be soon, but it will take me a good while to recover, and they haven't sorted out the Vanishing Cabinets yet. They need to make sure they allow for a large number of people to be transported through them, and they're not quite there yet. And now, they'll have to wait, because I can't help them,' he said with a triumphant smile. Hermione guessed when he said 'them'; he was referring to the Death Eaters. 'I'm glad I fell.'

Hermione drew a short breath. 'Draco, don't say that! You could have come off even worse, you could of, you… you could of…' she stumbled for the right words, unsure of what she was trying to say. 'Aren't you mad at Ron?' she asked, changing the subject.

'No,' Draco said. 'Because, really, he did me a favour. And plus,' he smirked. 'I know you'll get him for me.'

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. 'Already have,' she giggled. She decided not to go into detail about the fight. She decided it was for the best that Draco didn't know how close Ron had come to figuring out the truth. He had enough to worry about for now. 'So,' she said, looking down at her hand, which was still clasped with Draco's. 'Your father won't be angry with you?'

'He shouldn't be,' Draco said slowly, with a hint of apprehension. This wasn't surprising as Lucius Malfoy was- as everyone, not just Draco, knew- a bit unpredictable, and very hot-headed. 'It was an accident, and it was Weasley's fault, so my father is more likely to take it out on him and his family. He hates them enough anyway, and he always likes a good reason to have a go at people he doesn't like. He may be a little mad at me, but not much. It's more likely he'll be disappointed,' Draco explained with a shrug that caused him to wince as he moved his shoulder.

'Well, that's horrible,' Hermione said. 'That isn't how a father should treat his son.'

'True,' Draco agreed with a short laugh. 'But Hermione, can we stop talking about my father, please?'

'Of course. What do you want to talk about?'

'You… and me. Us.'

Hermione's heart began to race as soon as Draco said this. 'What about us?' she asked, her voice sounding unusually high to her own ears. She was also strangely warm.

'I didn't thank you,' Draco whispered. 'For coming to see me. It's quite a dangerous thing to do, and you didn't have to come…'

'I wouldn't have not,' Hermione swore, placing her other hand on top of the one holding Draco's. 'You said yourself, you knew I would come.' Her voice sounded breathy, like she was struggling to get the words out.

She watched Draco's lips move as he spoke. They were cracked and dry and ghostly pale, yet she couldn't tear her eyes away from them. Her heart began to beat even faster, so fast she expected it to beat right out of her chest. 'I know,' Draco said, his voice a breath of air against her own lips. His face was so close, closer than she had realised. 'I'm glad you came. All afternoon, all I could think about was you,' he admitted.

Hermione drew in a shaky breath. She gazed wondrously at him, lost in the stormy grey of his eyes. She had no idea what was happening, but she was enjoying the feeling that was washing over her, and she let it consume her. All she could think about was how beautiful Draco was, bathed in the ribbons of moonlight that cascaded from the windows above. Even when he was battered and beaten, he seemed beautiful. How could she ever have thought he was not?

Draco's eyes were roaming all over her face, soaking in every inch of her, a look matching Hermione's that could only be described as lust. 'Say something,' he breathed when Hermione remained silent. He wished that his free arm wasn't in a sling, for then he could have reached out and touched her, and maybe tucked away the soft brown curl that had fallen loose across her face.

'All I could think about was you too,' Hermione whispered back. Her mind was willing her to move, and she complied, her face inching even closer to Draco's, her body gently pressing up against his. They were now so close that their noses bumped lightly against one and others, their breathing loud and harsh. Hermione moved one of her hands off Draco's and placed it just above his hip bone, drawing them closer still. Their eyes found each other again, their pupils wide and dark and ravenous. They knew what they wanted. Slowly, in perfect synchronisation, their eyes flickered shut. Hermione tilted her head to one side, inching forwards, searching.

A loud crash caused them to pull apart. In the silence of the room, the sound of an object falling was almost deafening. In panic, Hermione tore herself away from Draco, leaping from the bed and turning to peek fearfully around the surrounding curtain. In the far back corner, next to one of the many medicine cabinets, a shattered glass bottle lay strewn across the floor, its contents forming a large puddle about the shards. There was no indication to what had caused the bottle to fall. There appeared to be no one there, but that didn't make Hermione feel any better. She was suddenly very frightened.

She turned back to where Draco lay, her hand still clinging to the curtain edge. 'What is it?' he asked, sitting further up in his bed.

'One of the medicine bottles must have overbalanced. It fell and smashed, that's all,' Hermione said curtly. She paused. 'I think should go,' she added.

She thought she could see a flash of disappointment across Draco's face, just for a second, but she couldn't be sure. He nodded at her gravely. 'Yes, you should go. I don't want you to get into any trouble.'

There was a brief silence as the two looked at one and other one last time. Hermione was confused, as was Draco. Neither of them could get a grasp of the situation they were in. For Hermione, it felt as if all her emotions were churning up inside of her and mashing together. She was so conflicted she wasn't even sure if she wanted to go or not. But she had to. 'Right,' she said eventually. 'Ok then.' Without another word she turned to leave, lifting the curtain back.

'Hermione,' Draco said suddenly. He sounded unsure of himself, like he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

Hermione looked back over her shoulder at him. 'I'll see you soon,' she said before he could continue, ducking through the curtain and away. When she reached the door, she looked back again. She'd left the curtains closed, but she couldn't help but look back anyway. Shaking her head as if to shake herself from a trace, she forced herself to continue on out into the corridor.

As she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, she realised something very, very daunting. She, Hermione Granger, had fallen for Draco Malfoy. She was in love with a Slytherin.


	10. Building Lies

**Ok, so I know my updates have been a bit all over the place lately, but I'm now in full on revision mode and it's getting harder and harder to keep updating on a regular basis. However, I promise I'll try to post a chapter midway through each week around Wednesday or Thursday and I'll see how it goes.**

 **On a different note, I'm sorry to everyone who came up with theories about the mysterious presence alongside Draco and Hermione in the hospital wing, but you'll have to wait until the next time to find out who it was! There is still a surprising twist at the end of this chapter though, so don't be too disappointed ;) Please keep reviewing and so on and generally being amazing- I love all the feedback I'm getting! Also, thanks to everyone who's taken an interest in this story so far- I know I write this every week but I'm honestly so grateful.**

 **Hope you enjoy...**

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10\. Building Lies

What Hermione hadn't expected when she got back was an interrogation; the minute she'd stepped through the portrait and into the common room she was face to face with all three of her best friends. Harry, Ron and Ginny were all sat on the sofa, their arms folded. Hermione glanced up at the clock on the wall on her way over and saw that it was well on the way to becoming midnight. The fire in the grate was almost dead, the flames weak.

Ginny was the first one to notice her arrival, rising to her feet when she saw Hermione standing at the foot of the room. The others got up as well, following her lead. 'Hermione,' she said in a stern voice, 'you've got some explaining to do.'

'I know…' Hermione said hesitantly, slightly taken aback at Ginny's rather fierce expression.

'Where have you been all afternoon?' Ginny demanded. She didn't sound angry, but hurt. Then again, Hermione had abandoned her at the Quidditch match without a word or explanation.

'I told you Ginny,' Ron interrupted. His eyes came to rest on Hermione, dark with anger. Hermione gulped. 'She was off somewhere with that bloody ferret Malfoy. She told me she was going to see him earlier, didn't you Hermione?' he asked her with a smirk as cold as a Slytherin's.

'Ron,' Harry cried. 'Don't be so rude! Hermione would never do that.'

'What is with you, Ron?' said Ginny.

'We had an argument,' Hermione explained matter-of-factly, too tired to sound annoyed. Her friends had a right to be curious. She just wished they weren't and that they would leave her be, however she knew deep down they wouldn't really be her friends if they did that. 'But it's true what Ron's saying,' she continued.

'What?' Ginny and Harry said at the same time.

'I did go and see… Malfoy,' she confessed, being careful not to say 'Draco'.

'What?' Harry gasped. 'Why?'

'I was doing it for Ron,' Hermione lied. 'I didn't tell him when I was mad at him, but I went over to the hospital wing, and I asked around. I wanted to make sure Malfoy didn't know it was Ron who hit him. Or if he did, I wanted to make sure he wouldn't let his farther… you know…' She trailed off.

'Why did it take you all afternoon?' Harry questioned. 'It can't have taken you this long,' he pointed towards the clock behind him. The hands now read ten to twelve. 'Not even prefects are out this late, Hermione. What happened?'

'I…' Hermione began, racking her brain as she desperately fought for the right words. She had to be convincing, and she certainly couldn't tell them the real story. 'He- Malfoy was really mad. He was going to tell his father immediately. He… he was planning on getting Ron expelled,' she said, noticing that Ron had paled a little as she spoke. 'And I couldn't let that happen. So I went to the library. I researched for hours, trying to find a spell that could make Malfoy forget or… or just… something. Without harming him.'

'Why don't you just kill the bastard?' Ron spat.

'Ron,' Harry warned.

Hermione ignored them both. 'I found a spell that sort of… changed reality,' she pressed on, elaborating on her story as much as possible. It had to pay off. 'I snuck back into the hospital wing after all the nurses had left, and I cast the spell. I made him believe it was the Slytherin that had tried to score the goal that hit him, not Ron. Kind of like an alternative version of events that's loosely based on what really happened. Then… I came back here. And here we are. The end,' she finished, folding her arms and sighing. 'Happy?'

Her story was met with silence and blank stares as her three friends took the time to process what she had just said. Ginny was the first to speak. 'Well, that's awesome!' she squeaked. 'You did all that for Ron even after you fell out.' She smiled smugly at her brother. 'Now he just seems ungrateful.'

'It's ok, really,' Hermione insisted. She was relieved that her story had apparently payed off. The only person who didn't look convinced was Ron.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, rubbing his scar in thought. 'So that's why you weren't in lessons. I thought it was because you were mad at Ron or something, because when Ron's in a mood, I know you two have had a few differences. And Ron was really moody all afternoon. It was really quite annoying.'

Hermione laughed. 'Oh, that was another reason,' she assured him. That part was true, at least. 'It just gave me more motive to flunk lessons.'

'You didn't miss much,' Harry said. 'And lucky for you, we had a supply for Defence Against the Dark Arts.' _That is lucky_ , Hermione thought. Snape, who now taught that subject (Professor Slughorn had replaced him as potions master), wouldn't have let her get away with skipping class, that was for sure.

'You dodged a bullet there,' Ginny laughed. She turned again to her brother, who was still glaring daggers at Hermione, although he was refusing to say a word. He obviously didn't believe her, and it didn't look like anything she could say would change that. Thankfully, people tended to believe her over Ron. 'Oh, Ronald,' Ginny said in despair. 'Grow up, you ungrateful pig! Hermione is not secretly dating Malfoy behind our backs, or whatever it is you think she's doing. As her friend, you should trust her. She wouldn't lie to us.'

'She is lying, though,' Ron muttered back, throwing one more glare in Hermione's direction, before stalking up the stairs to his dorm in silence. After a minute or so, everyone heard the door slam.

Hermione gulped, her throat suddenly very dry. She felt awful. On top of everything, what made all the lying worse was the fact that she couldn't get Draco out of her head. She didn't care about Ron, or even what Ginny or Harry may be thinking. Filling her mind were images of Draco's eyes and lips and his hand in hers, his breath against her cheek…

'I'd better go after him,' Harry said with a deep sigh. 'And you guys should go to bed too. It's late.'

'Yeah,' Ginny said with a yawn. 'I'm suddenly very sleepy. Coming, Hermione?'

'Yeah,' Hermione replied, following her friend up to the girl's dorm. It didn't take her long to get ready for bed. All she did was brush her teeth and shove on a pair of pyjamas, not even bothering to brush her hair, which she knew would get even more tangled in the morning because of this. But, at that moment, she didn't really care. She was so tired she could feel her eyelids drooping before she even climbed under the covers. Before she could drift off to sleep, however, she was interrupted by a voice.

It was Ginny. 'Hermione?' her friend called, her voice thick with sleep.

'Yeah?'

'Why did you shout Malfoy's name when he fell?'

'What?' Hermione spluttered, although she knew very well what Ginny was talking about. She couldn't believe that had slipped her mind. She hadn't even realised that people may have heard her- how could she have been so stupid? 'I didn't say that,' she said unpersuasively.

'Yes,' Ginny said, 'you did. I remember it, and everyone else in the stands heard you. Parvati and Lavender wouldn't shut up about it when you left.'

'Really?' Hermione said, trying in vain to sound surprised. 'I wasn't even aware I said that. I guess I was so mad at Ron; I would have screamed the name of anyone he injured. In fact, I bet that's who he was looking out for! You know, when he wasn't concentrating. For some reason, he wanted to get at Malfoy… and he did.'

'Yeah,' Ginny said thoughtfully, taking the bait. 'That makes sense. Maybe it was because he was convinced you had something going on with him?' she suggested, although Hermione could tell she was nervous to put her suggestion forwards. 'You know how protective Ron gets. And you must know it's because he… likes you.'

'I know,' Hermione said with a frustrated sigh. 'And I already explained the Malfoy situation to him. I assume he didn't tell you that I met with Malfoy- before the Quidditch match, I mean- to discuss an Ancient Runes project. Ron saw us and got the wrong idea.'

'Hmm,' Ginny murmured. 'You're right, Ron didn't mention that. But, Hermione?'

'Yeah?'

'You know you can tell me anything, right? No matter how crazy.'

'Of course.'

'Well… alright then. Just as long as you know I'm always here for you.'

'I do. Thanks, Ginny.' Hermione had never felt so guilty in all her life.

That night she could barely sleep. When she woke the next morning, she found herself feeling even more tired than she had been previously. She got out of bed and changed into her uniform mechanically, but her movements were much slower, and her head was pounding. Glancing around the dorm, she also realised she was the only one there. She didn't dare find out the time, for fear of how late she actually was.

Groaning, she stumbled down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, rubbing away the sleep that had crusted around her eyes with one hand as she attempted to comb her knotted hair with her fingers using the other. At the foot of the stairs hung a large, guilt-framed mirror, and Hermione couldn't help but take a peek at her reflection. She almost fainted at the sight. _I can't go out like this_ , her mind screamed as she stared at herself in horror. She didn't think she had ever looked worse. There were huge purple bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep, and her skin had a weird green tinge to it. Hermione's hair was known for being notoriously wild, but never before had it been quite this out-of-control. Her usually tameable brown curls were sticking up in every possible direction, and had seemed to double in volume. It looked as if she'd sprung an afro overnight.

 _That decides it_ , Hermione thought savagely. _I am skipping breakfast_. She needed time to sort herself out, and possibly wake up a bit more. Spurred on by the need to make herself presentable, Hermione raced back up the stairs and to the girl's bathroom. First, she splashed water on her face, then spent the next half an hour or so raking a brush through her mane of hair to try and control it. It was still a little frizzy after she was finished, but it would do. All the while she had been thinking about the day before: her confusing and slightly terrifying feelings about Draco, and her slowly disintegrating friendship. Since when had her life become so complicated? And it was all her fault.

She was the one who had followed Draco that night. She was the one who'd persuaded him she could help. How could she help? If anything, she was putting him in more danger. Ron was the closest to the truth, and after last night it seemed that Ginny was beginning to have her suspicions as well. How long until one of them found out? And then what would happen? It was bad enough already that her secret relationship with Draco was drawing her away from her friends. She could feel them growing more and more distant as she continued to spend less and less time with them. Surely soon, if not already, they'd start to ask questions, like where had she been? What was she doing all that time on her own? She couldn't come up with excuses forever. And she was beginning to have serious doubts about what she was doing. It took a lot of self-persuasion to tell herself that no matter how hard it was getting; she was doing the right thing.

'You're doing the right thing,' Hermione mumbled to herself as she headed to her first lesson of the day, her usual pile of books hugged to her chest, making her feel more secure. She ended up missing breakfast, and although she hadn't eaten since breakfast the previous morning, she found that she wasn't hungry in the slightest. In fact, the thought of food seemed to make her stomach lurch uncomfortably. Maybe she was ill.

'Hermione!' The sound of someone calling her name caused her to turn around. When she saw that it was Ron running up behind her, she immediately started walking away again. But Ron was unusually and annoyingly persistent. 'Hermione,' he called again, running round the front of her so that he was now facing her. She continued forwards in the hope that he would move out of her way, but he just ended up walking backwards along with her. 'Hermione I need to talk to you.' Hermione kept walking. 'Please,' Ron begged. 'Look, I'm sorry I've been such a… a… Well, I'm sorry I haven't been the nicest of people recently. It's just…'

'What?' Hermione snapped, stopping in her tracks. Ron stopped too. 'What do you want?'

'To apologise,' Ron said earnestly. 'I was thinking about what you said last night. Well, actually, Harry talked to me about it,' he added timidly.

'And what?' Hermione cried, glaring at him with all the hatred she could muster. 'Let me guess- you had a sudden epiphany. You saw the light. You realised that there was no way in earth your best friend Hermione Granger would ever, ever fraternise with a Slytherin because- oh, I don't know- they've mocked her all her life and called her names such as 'muggle-born' and 'mudblood'. Well, congratulations.'

Ron's cheek's flared red. 'Something like that,' he said quietly after a brief silence. 'I know what you said makes sense. It does. And I knew all along, from the moment you first started explaining things to me, but I convinced myself that you were doing something with him… with Malfoy.' He practically spat the name as if it was the foulest word he had ever spoken, which just happened to make Hermione even angrier, despite the fact he was confessing to her. 'I made up this story in my head,' he continued with a shrug. 'I guess I started to believe it.'

Hermione sighed. What was she going to do with Ron and his erratic mood swings? 'That's all well and good,' she said gravely, 'but you can't expect me to forgive you every time you do something like this, Ron. You need to control your anger. It leads you astray.' She looked up at him meaningfully. She knew that now was not the best time to be angry at Ron, for that would just set him off again.

Ron looked down at his feet sheepishly. 'I know,' he said in defeat. 'I know, Hermione, but when it comes to you I just get all defensive. You know it's only because I-' He stopped suddenly, a look of sudden panic crossing his face, as if he was about to say something he would regret. Sadly, Hermione already had a good idea of what that something might be.

'What?' she asked innocently.

Ron closed his mouth and then opened it again, reminding Hermione of a goldfish. 'Harry believes you,' he said, changing the subject. 'So, as your friend,' he continued rather forcefully, 'I should too. But know this- if I ever find out you have been lying to us in any way, we are no longer friends. Clear?'

Hermione nodded, trying to calm her tremulous insides. 'I understand.'

'You have been acting rather strangely, recently, there's no denying that,' Ron added with a light shrug.

Hermione paused, and idea springing to her head. 'Want to know why I've been acting strangely?' she said with intended softness. She continued before Ron could reply. 'It's because... I've been too afraid to do this.' Without another word, she stood on her tiptoes, closed her eyes, tilted her head upwards and kissed Ron on the lips.

It wasn't a very long kiss, their lips just touching briefly. Ron's lips were soft and warm and surprisingly delicate as Hermione pressed hers against them. When she pulled away, she noticed that Ron was standing in the same position, having not moved an inch, just staring at Hermione. She stepped back and looked into his eyes. She saw that they were filled with an undeniable love as he looked back at her, sending a fresh wave of guilt washing over her. She had felt guilty even as she was kissing Ron, for she had felt no sparks flying. Her heart hadn't been pounding as she had stepped forwards; she hadn't been sweating or feeling tingly all over; she hadn't felt like it was the right decision, and the fact was simple. She did not love Ronald Weasley as he loved her. Not in that way, anyway. Her decision to do what she did had been practical, and for her own benefit. She'd needed to give Ron a reason that explained her recent behaviour, and now he had one.

She stepped back another pace, although Ron still hadn't moved. 'I'll see you in class,' she whispered with a secret smile, a smile that felt wrong. Then she turned and left Ron standing there, heading in the completely wrong direction. It looked as if she'd have to find an alternative route to her first lesson. One thing was for sure, she certainly hadn't expected that that was to be her first kiss. She hadn't expected that at all.


	11. An Unwanted Visitor

**Hi everyone, sorry I didn't have time to upload last night, but as I said from this point onwards it's highly likely the updates to this story will become increasingly erratic as I enter the exam period.**

 **I received a comment last week about how Hermione was acting out of character with Ron, and I admit it was an rather cruel act in a way, but I'm presenting these characters with rather volatile situations that are likely to result in unpredictable and sometimes shocking reactions from the characters themselves. Also, that scene was much needed in my opinion as an essential part of the story and for a good bit of drama :) Anyway, for those of you who were concerned (hopefully it doesn't bother many of you), I can assure you Hermione is definitely feeling awful about what she's done- but I think all characters have flaws and moments of weakness in their moral reasoning.**

 **So, that probably wasn't a great deal but I just had to get it off my chest. In other news, you may be finding out who was spying on Draco and Hermione in the hospital wing if you read on...**

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11\. An Unwanted Visitor

Draco Malfoy had kissed many girls before. He'd practically kissed every single Slytherin girl in his year- even some from the years above or below. Only the decent ones, of course. Pansy Parkinson was the girl he kissed most often. She was kind of like his on and off girlfriend, but they had never been officially 'together'. Draco didn't even know what it was really like to be with someone, to really love them, and know that they loved you back. Pansy was more of a convenience- he let her fall all over him for appearance. He was a Malfoy. He could get any girl he wanted. That was what he had used to believe.

Whenever he'd kissed a girl, it had felt great. The feeling of their lips against his, of their hands in his hair, on his shoulders, down his back- wanting him, as he had wanted them. It had felt great, it had felt right, but it had never felt like it was meant to be. He still didn't know what you were meant to feel when you kissed someone and you truly loved them. But he was starting to get an idea.

He wasn't sure what it was he had been feeling when Hermione had visited the night before. The way he'd spoken to her had confused even himself, because whatever he said had been automatic. He hadn't been trying to say those things, they had just come naturally, and he'd meant every word, which was unusual, for Draco at least. In his previous experiences of being alone with girls, he remembered lots of flirting, touching, laughing and cheap pick-up lines. He remembered having to think about everything he said to get it right, but with Hermione no thinking was involved.

That moment, right at the end of her visit, when they'd been so close and everything around them had seemed to fade away and it was just Hermione, was something he'd never experienced before. That fire burning inside of him, that intense feeling… he was certain he would have kissed her if it hadn't been for that bottle smashing, interrupting them. And then the moment had been ruined, and she had left. But it had made Draco realise something, something that, deep down, he had known for a while. It became clearer when she had screamed his name at the Quidditch match as he was falling. Then the moment when they had almost kissed- that had confirmed it. The fact that he was in love- _in love_ \- with Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger, of all people! The girl he had hated ever since the day they had first met had somehow managed to make him fall in love with her. Or maybe it was just fate, he didn't know. What he did know was that he had never felt this way before about a girl, ever. And he had had his fair share of girls. But this was a girl who was probably the most out of reach of all of them- the most impossible to get. He didn't even know if she felt the same way about him, and he didn't know what it do about it. Despite all his experience, he was completely inexperienced when it came to love.

'Good evening, Mister Malfoy.' The sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice in his ear was what shook Draco from his thoughts. The nurse slammed a large dusty bottle full of dark liquid down on his bedside table. He suppressed a groan, knowing Madam Pomfrey couldn't stand for complainers, even though Skele-gro was the vilest medicine he had ever taken. Sometimes he wished he could be healed like the muggles did- even though it would take him months to recover. He needed months! Using magic, he would be as good as new within one or two weeks, but they were weeks he was not looking forward to as long as he had to take this particular medicine twice a day, along with all sorts of weird (and disgusting) concoctions for his other injuries. He couldn't remember all the things they'd listed were wrong with his legs and back.

'Evening,' Draco grumbled tiredly, watching warily as the nurse poured the Skele-gro liquid into a large spoon. As she tipped the spoonful into his mouth, Draco resisted the urge to gag as he felt what tasted like cold vomit slide down his throat. 'Ugh,' he spat when she was done, after receiving two more spoonfuls.

'Don't be ungrateful, Mister Malfoy,' Madam Pomfrey huffed as she screwed on the lid. 'I'm doing everything I can to get you back to full health. You've had one of the worst Quidditch accidents in a long while, and you should be pleased you didn't come off worse. That was a nasty fall.'

Draco shrugged vaguely. He wanted to apologise, or thank the head nurse for all she was doing, but he knew he had to keep up appearances. When he wasn't with Hermione, he was still the old Draco Malfoy. _A stuck-up pure-blood_ , he thought grimly.

'Well,' Madam Pomfrey sighed. 'I think you'll be glad to hear you're responding to the treatment nicely. You should be out by the end of this week if you continue improving at such a rate.' She began to draw Draco's curtains back around his bed as she shuffled away with her trolley of goods. Draco remained silent, staring stonily ahead as he pretended to ignore her. She sighed again. 'Get some sleep, it helps speed up the medicine,' she ordered, before finally backing away. A minute later, Draco heard the door to the hospital wing slam shut, and he was left alone.

He let out a deep breath and settled back against the numerous pillows that were stacked up behind him. Being the only patient in the wing was rather lonely, and although Draco enjoyed having quiet times to think, he felt he'd gone too long without someone else to talk to. Today none of his friends had visited him, and the only other person he'd seen was Madam Pomfrey, and she wasn't exactly the most talkative or the most interesting of characters. Even though Hermione had only visited the night before, he realised that it was her company he was craving. He wished she would visit every night so he wouldn't have to be alone with only a view of his curtains and the black and seemingly endless ceiling above him.

Then, as if someone was answering his prayers, he heard footsteps making their way over to where he lay. Draco frowned. That was odd, for he hadn't heard the door open again. Had Hermione been hiding somewhere in the room, waiting until he was alone? But no… those footsteps couldn't belong to Hermione. They were too loud, each step echoing eerily off the walls. Draco's frown deepened. He could have sworn he recognised those footsteps- the brisk, confident pace of the walk and the tapping of what sounded like heeled boots. But it couldn't be…

His curtains were pulled back in a sudden gesture, causing Draco to jump violently. He stared at the figure now standing before him. 'Father?' he gasped, disbelieving.

Lucius Malfoy was stood at the foot of his bed, one hand resting on his sleek black cane with the silver head. He wore his usual attire: the raven black cape covering most of his figure, the black heeled boots, white-blonde hair cascading down his back. 'Draco,' he greeted with a sharp incline of his head.

'What are you doing here?' Draco spluttered, feeling his throat tighten. For his father to risk a meeting with him inside the school, whatever it was it had to be important.

'Well, obviously I came here to see you,' Lucius said smoothly, his voice giving away no intentions or purpose. 'Are you not pleased to see me?'

'Of course I am father,' Draco replied. 'But… but… you being here- isn't it too dangerous? You could be caught and… and…' He trailed off.

Lucius' face was as hard as stone. 'And what?' he said. 'It appeared to be just fine when that mudblood visited you last night.'

Draco felt all the blood drain from his face. An icy fear began coursing through his veins as his father continued to stare at him with eyes that seemed to bore right through him. 'What do you mean?' he said, trying to keep a steady voice, but he could hear the tremor in his words. So that was why his father had come to visit him.

'Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Draco,' Lucius snarled, banging his cane against the floor, causing Draco to flinch. 'If you lie to me, I swear to you I will have her killed instantly.'

Draco gulped, trying to control the flailing panic that was welling up inside of him. 'How did you know?' he asked meekly. He could feel a hot sweat breaking out on his brow.

'Did you think I would not find out?' Lucius said, his emotionless mask beginning to slip, revealing the anger beneath. 'The Dark Lord is watching you, always. This task is one you will complete in order to gain his trust. But he doesn't quite trust you yet, and I can see why. A _mudblood_ , Draco? Have you lost your mind!?'

Draco stiffened as his father moved around the furthest bedpost, edging his way closer to where he lay propped up against the pillows. 'Does… the Dark Lord know?'

'Not yet,' Lucius said shortly, and Draco felt a flutter of relief that was quickly stomped out. 'But I could easily inform him of your traitorous behaviour. He has spies here, in the castle, who are watching your every move, ensuring you stay on task, and that your loyalty is not compromised. You are loyal to the Death Eaters, aren't you, Draco?'

'Yes,' Draco insisted, but he didn't sound convincing, and Lucius didn't look convinced. 'Are you saying you have people spying on me?' he asked, horrified, suddenly realising that the bottle that smashed during Hermione's visit might have not been a coincidence.

'Yes. And it's a good thing I do, because now we have time to sort this mess out before the Dark Lord finds out. Luckily, they report back to me. The Dark Lord trusts me, and it is I who shall be updating him on your mission. But that could easily change if he is not satisfied, Draco.'

Draco looked down at the white sheets of his bed, refusing to meet his father's accusing glare. Lucius was now stood right beside him. He stood silently seething for a while, and then his hand shot out like a whip, grabbing Draco's chin and turning it roughly towards him, forcing Draco to face him. 'You are ashamed,' he said. 'Good. You should be. You have stooped lower than I could have ever imagined. My own son, involved with a filthy, worthless mudblood. A mudblood who happens to be good friends with none other than Harry Potter himself. And here I was thinking you could not possibly disappoint me any more than you have already. Oh, how wrong I was. But I see it now.' He leaned closer to Draco, tightening the grip on his chin, long nails digging painfully into his cheeks. 'You do not deserve to be called a Malfoy- a name that symbolises honour and purity- for you are filthy. That mudblood has made you as dirty as she is. But…' he sighed dramatically, 'you are still my son. So I will give you one more chance,' he finished, releasing his grip.

Draco cowered away from his father as soon as he was free, rubbing his sore chin. His hands were shaking. 'Father, I'm so sorry…' he managed to choke out.

'Do not apologise,' Lucius said with contained anger. 'You do not deserve forgiveness. What you will do is stop meeting with the mudblood immediately. If you have told her anything, you will wipe her memory. For her it will be as if you two have never spoken.'

'I haven't told her anything, I swear,' Draco pleaded.

Lucius' nostrils flared, and quick as a flash he backhanded Draco, who fell back against his pillows with a cry, a hand to his face. 'I said do not lie to me,' Lucius said between clenched teeth. 'I've had enough disappointment for one day. You will cut all ties with her or there will be consequences. And I can assure you that her fate will be far worse than the mercy of death.'

'Father…'

'Do not fail me again,' Lucius warned.

Draco felt as if he might cry, but he managed to swallow the lump in his throat and blink back the tears threatening to spill over. He looked away from the thunderous face of his father for a moment to collect himself, but when he looked back, Lucius was gone. He was alone again, but that fact didn't in the least bit offer comfort. He didn't think his situation could possibly get any worse. How could he have been so stupid as to let someone in? He wasn't _supposed_ to get any help: his mission was his own, and he had to complete it in secret- that was his burden.

 _Look what happens when you reach out to someone_ , he scolded himself. All he had managed to do was put Hermione in grave danger. If Voldemort found out what she knew… that wasn't something he liked to think about. There was no getting out of this, he knew that now. Hermione's plan was to help him, but there was no helping him, because now he would be even more closely watched, and Hermione's life was on the line. He knew he had to tell her they could no longer meet, for her safety. No matter what he felt about her, they could no longer see each other. It just wasn't possible. It wasn't meant to be.

Despite all Draco's efforts, a single tear managed to escape, rolling slowly down his cheek before splashing onto the sheets below. He was well, and truly, alone.


	12. Devastation

**Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about this story! I've merely been taking an extended break due to my exams, which are (finally) almost over, but I admit I left this story a lot longer than I was intending too. Sorry for the short chapter as well, but I promise I will be uploading much sooner next time around. Stay tuned and enjoy the story :)**

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9\. Devastation

Hermione hadn't gone back to visit Draco ever since that night. She had wanted to see him again, but her friends seemed to have made some secret pact to never let her out of their sight. She was getting frustrated, but she couldn't let it show: she couldn't let them see that anything was wrong. Even worse was Ron. Ever since she had kissed him he had been clinging to her like a leech. He even studied with her now, and it appeared that they were now officially an item. Ron had told everybody; even people she didn't know would give her secret smiles as they passed by. It was like the whole school had been waiting for them to get together, and it was maddening.

Ginny, of course, was ecstatic. She had known all along that Ron had been secretly harbouring feelings of love, and she had probably grown fed up of Ron whining to her about his aching longing for Hermione. Harry had been calmer, but still complimentary, and Hermione could tell he was secretly pleased for his friends, although he often feigned utter devastation. The fact that everyone was acting like the whole situation was some sort of miracle made Hermione want to scream. But she had to play along.

'Hermione!' Ron's familiar call filled the otherwise silent library as he bounded up to the table where Hermione was sat, studiously reading a textbook.

 _There is no escape,_ Hermione thought dismally as she turned to face the eager-eyed boy with a falsely wide smile. Funnily enough, Ron had been in an insanely good mood ever since the kiss, which was in some ways a relief. 'Ron,' Hermione said, 'you'd better have a good reason for disturbing me.' She raised an eyebrow and gestured to the stacks of books piled up around her. The library was her place of sanctuary- it was like a second home to her, and it was not to be violated unless absolutely necessary. She had made that very clear to all of her friends.

'Actually, I do,' Ron replied, stepping forwards to peck Hermione on the lips. Quickly, she turned her head so that Ron ended up kissing her cheek.

'Please, Ron,' she hissed under her breath as he pulled back. 'Not in public, remember?'

'Sorry,' Ron said with a goofy smile. He scratched at his ginger hair awkwardly. 'I'm just happy, that's all. And you may want to get to class, which starts in...' he glanced at his watch, 'oh, five minutes.'

Hermione had to stop herself from rolling her eyes as she gathered up her things. 'I don't need you to keep me organised Ron,' she huffed, snapping the book she had been reading shut. 'It's me we're talking about here. I knew perfectly well what the time was.'

'Uh huh,' Ron said with a sly smirk. 'So maybe you knew the time. But you're cutting it a bit close considering we have Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

'What?'

'It's Monday afternoon. Last period. Did you forget or something?' Ron smirked again.

Hermione had been so absorbed in her thoughts and her books all morning that she had completely forgotten. Defence Against the Dark Arts meant Snape, and Snape meant you had to get to class early. Unless you wanted about 100 points docked off Gryffindor, which she didn't. As a prefect, it was her obligation to set a good example. 'Oh no,' she said, staring at Ron with wide eyes.

'Don't worry,' Ron assured her. 'We can still make it.' Before she could react, he grabbed her free hand (the one not clasping numerous books to her chest) and took off at a run, dragging her behind him as they weaved past bookcase after bookcase and out into the corridor.

They weren't late, as it turned out: they had arrived before Snape, but they were amongst the last of the students. Ron had refused to let go of her hand as he pulled her into the classroom when Hermione tried to shake him off. Immediately, practically every pair of eyes turned on them as they entered, but Hermione barley even noticed, despite her embarrassment. She only saw one pair of eyes: piercing, stormy grey eyes she hadn't expected to see for a while. Draco had been released from the hospital wing early, and that was clear by the fact that he was now sat in his usual place in between Blaise Zabini and Gregory Goyle at the back of the room. He looked paler than usual, but other than that he seemed to be fully healed. She watched as his eyes travelled to Ron, who was stood beside her, and then down to their clasped hands. He stared for a while before abruptly turning away to whisper to his friends.

Blaise and Goyle burst into a fit of giggles as Draco himself smirked maliciously, not bothering to look back at the two Gryffindors who had just entered. It was obvious he had said something cruel. Hermione felt her face heat up as Ron led her to sit down. Harry was already there, and had reserved them their usual places. He looked at her sympathetically as she began to slowly unpack her bag for the lesson.

'Just ignore them,' he said softly. 'They're not worth it.'

'Easy for you to say,' Ron growled from Hermione's other side. He snaked his arm around her shoulders protectively, hugging her towards him. It took all of her will power not to throw him off.

It couldn't possibly get any worse. Ron was falling all over her in front of Draco. What would he think? She hadn't got a chance to explain herself to him yet- about how she'd had no other choice in order to throw Ron off their scent. She couldn't imagine what he would be thinking, but she knew it wasn't good. She looked up at Ron, not daring to look across at Draco, and realised he was still talking.

'It seems that not everyone is pleased about our relationship,' he was saying. Hermione cringed. 'I have a right mind to-'

'Ron!' Hermione cut in, gently untangling herself from him. 'I'm fine, honestly.' She cast a glance towards Draco's table, trying desperately to catch his eye. 'I don't care.' She saw him turn and then glare at her with such malice she found herself leaning away from him.

His gaze switched seamlessly to one of amusement as he leaned forwards towards her table. 'Well, well,' he said, Blaise and Goyle continuing to snigger behind him. 'What do we have here? Love blossoming amongst the Golden Trio. Careful, Potter, I wouldn't want to get in between those two, I'd expect them to be... very messy, which tends to be the case when you have a pair of inexperienced lovers.' He sat back, folding his arms with a triumphant smirk.

Hermione was trying to stay calm. It was an act- it had to be! Draco would never truly say things like that and actually mean what he said. It was just all part of staying in character and being the Draco Malfoy everyone else knew, not the one she was used to. But he sounded so convincing...

Harry laughed coldly. 'Yeah, like you know anything about love, Malfoy. You only know how to be unpleasant. So, don't go believing that anyone cares about what you think, because you don't really know how to.'

Draco raised a blonde eyebrow indifferently. 'Ah, Potter, that's where you are wrong,' he cast a subtle sideways glance at Hermione, 'I know that deep down, what I say really does affect you. And it hurts to know that what I say is the truth.' He paused. 'Take Granger for example. She probably teaches herself kissing techniques out of a handbook. For all I know, she probably practices on the back of her hand every night, hoping to one day meet that special someone...'

Hermione felt her skin go all prickly. Why was Draco saying all this? It didn't sound as if he was faking it, even though that was what she kept telling herself. He could have stopped after a couple of insults, and the charade would have still been in place. But Draco wasn't finished.

'And Weasley, he gets tips off his parents. The amount of times he's probably watched them slobber all over each other, secretly wishing he was brave enough to kiss a girl himself for the first time... knowing that it could never be,' he sighed dramatically, making his eyelids flutter. 'Of course, the only girl he could get was Granger. Sadly, that's the only filth available to people like the Weasleys.' He paused again, meticulously, this time looking Hermione directly in the eyes. _Don't,_ Hermione thought, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Then he said it. The word confirming that it wasn't just a ruse. That he meant everything he said. 'Mudbloods.'

Hermione looked away swiftly, tears welling in her eyes. She couldn't believe it. Draco had once told her he regretted calling her that name, and she'd believed him. What had made him change his mind? What had given him the desire to be so cruel to her all of a sudden? She wasn't on the verge of crying because Draco had called her a mudblood. No, he used to use that insult all the time. It was the fact that he had called her a mudblood _now_ , after everything they had been through. And after that night in the hospital wing... Was he upset that she hadn't come back to visit him? That she had left in such a hurry?

Ron stood up abruptly, knocking his stool backwards with a clatter. Draco narrowed his eyes. 'You son of a bitch,' Ron snarled, starting forwards purposefully. Draco stood too as Ron came right up to him, their faces inches apart. 'Don't you dare speak about my girlfriend like that,' he warned.

'Or what?' Draco said with a smirk. Hermione wished he would stop smiling that that. 'Why shouldn't I? She,' he pointed to Hermione accusingly, 'is an insult to our race. As a pure-blood, you are a disgrace not to honour that.'

'She's a witch, just like any other witch,' Ron fired back, his fists twitching by his sides. 'And she is twice the sorcerer you will ever be.'

Draco laughed, his eyes flashing dangerously. Hermione shivered. 'I don't think so,' he said. 'And I would watch what you say around me, Weasley. I know what you did to me, and I'll take it out on her if I have to.'

'Ron, don't!' Harry called as Ron, who was shaking all over, veins bulging at his temples, drew back his fist. But Draco was quicker; his arm a blur as he pulled it back and released it. He hit Ron hard, causing him to stumble backwards.

'My father is very angry with you,' Draco said lividly, breathing hard. 'And mark my words; it will be your family who has to answer for it.'

At that Ron gave a vicious cry and lunged forwards again, grabbing for Draco's throat. Half the class were out of their seats now, after watching the event unfold. Hermione was shouting for Ron to stop, her vision blurring. She could hear others calling out too. Harry was trying to pull Ron away, as was Blaise, whilst Goyle sat dumfounded. Then another voice sounded above the rest.

'Stop right there,' Snape boomed, marching into the classroom with a sweep of his cloak. Ron leapt back immediately as everyone scrambled for their seats. Hermione had forgotten, as had everyone else, it seemed, that they were supposed to be having a lesson. Snape was later than usual. Draco coughed roughly, his hand to his throat as he slid back into his chair.

'Detention, Weasley,' Snape continued in a sharp tone, moving to stand behind his desk at the front of the classroom. 'And 100 points from Gryffindor for attacking another pupil. I do not wish to know what was going on, however, I shouldn't think it wise to go round strangling someone who has just been released from the hospital wing after a certain Quidditch accident,' he added sternly, his beady black eyes flitting around the room surreptitiously.

Ron gulped. 'Yes, Professor,' he said in a muted voice, accepting his punishment instantly. There was nothing more he could have said anyway.

'Professor?' Harry piped up nervously. Hermione turned to him, poking him in the leg.

'Shut up,' she whispered between her teeth. 'You'll only make it worse.'

'What is it, Potter?' Snape ground out.

'It wasn't all Ron's fault. Malfoy provoked him and-'

'Enough,' Snape cried, cutting him off. 'Detention, Potter. Clearly you didn't hear the part where I said I didn't want to know what was going on. I only know what I saw and that is all. You and Weasley can stay behind after this lesson finishes.'

Hermione groaned. What had Harry been thinking? It was inevitable that Snape didn't care what he or she or any other Gryffindor thought about the matter. His attempts to frame Malfoy had always been futile. Snape adored him, and he adored all Slytherins. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the lesson, although she was unable to concentrate. The classroom remained silent from that point onwards, with Snape making everybody write essay after essay about things they had previously covered.

Hermione worked with diligence, although her mind was elsewhere. She found she couldn't bear to look at Draco. Thinking of him and what he had said- and his face as he had said it- made her feel sick to her stomach. She couldn't rap her head around it, and she refused to believe he meant it, but he must of. She just didn't know why. Whatever her thoughts and feelings, she needed to meet with him and find out what was going on, so, using a bit of spare parchment, she wrote him a note. It said plainly:

Room of Requirement

It was much like the note he had given her in Hogsmeade, and she prayed he would understand and decide to meet her. When class was over, she took her time stacking her books away, but it appeared that Draco was taking his time as well. She felt her throat constrict- she knew he was avoiding her. Eventually, however, he began to make his way to the door, and Hermione purposefully stepped into his path, bumping into him. She slipped the note into his cloak pocket just in time before he shoved her roughly to the side. 'Get out of my way, Granger,' he snapped furiously, stalking off without looking back.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding. Collecting the rest of her books from her desk, she hurried after him, leaving behind Ron and Harry who were staying to serve their detentions. When she made it to the door, she felt the tightening in her throat worsen. Just outside the doorframe, lying on the floor, was a crumpled bit of parchment. Fingers shaking, she bent to pick it up, reluctantly unfolding it. It was her note, but this time it was Draco sending her a message.

* * *

 **I know, I know, I'm sorry. But every story has got to have a little bit of drama in it to retain interest don't you think? In the next chapter you'll be finding out why Draco was acting so strangely, unless you've already guessed it. Please remember to post a review, and thank you for reading... :)**


	13. Revelation

**Wow, it's been a long time!**

 **First of all, I am really sorry to everyone who was enjoying the story because I have let you down, and there is no excuse really. It's just been sat on the shelf, gathering dust, and I always intended to come back to it but I never did. Again, there is nothing I can really do about it but apologise profusely and provide you with another chapter, and hopefully many more in the future. Having re-read it to familiarise myself with what's happened so far, I now have some new ideas about the direction I want this story to go, and I can't wait to get started. I am so glad I (finally!) sat down and forced myself to update this, because my motivation has been fully restored, I promise!**

 **To everyone who supported this story in the beginning, hopefully you have not lost faith in it just yet! All I can say is thank you because after looking back through the reviews I have to say the response is so overwhelming, and I forgot how much all the nice things people have said really meant to me. Argh! I can't believe I abandoned this for so long.**

 **If you're willing to forgive me, please keep the reviews coming to prevent me from ever neglecting this ever again!**

 **So this chapter leads directly on from the last, and I'm a little worried about it because I've never written anything like this before (you'll see what I mean). But I tried, and if it's terrible then I'm sorry, but please let me know what you think. If you spot any spelling mistakes don't hesitate to point them out (I was rushing this chapter a little bit to get it done as soon as possible).**

 **Well... I have nothing else to say other than I hope you enjoy it, and- of course- happy Christmas!**

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13\. Revelation

Hermione looked up desperately, hoping to spot him amongst the crowds of students lining the corridor who had all just been released from their lessons. She couldn't see him at first, but then she managed to spot a flash of white blonde in the far distance, disappearing around the end of the corridor. Gritting her teeth determinedly, Hermione took chase.

She realised that history was repeating itself: she was following Draco again, just like that first night when everything had changed. Although, this time, the circumstances were a little different, and she didn't care if he saw her. After feeling hurt and confused during class, she now realised that she was angry. No, she was more than that- she was furious. How dare Draco refuse to speak with her after his little performance earlier? How dare he act as though, somehow, she had done something wrong? She had done nothing wrong, and he was being unreasonably cruel.

Blind with rage, she stormed after his constantly retreating figure. Due to the path he was taking, Hermione deduced he was heading towards that tower he'd once shown her. The one he'd stole a key for. Hermione smiled grimly. Lucky for her, this particular way passed right by the Room of Requirement. She had almost caught up to him by the time they made it to the seventh floor left corridor.

'Draco,' she cried angrily, drawing her wand out. He would not be refusing her this time.

Draco whipped round at the sound of her voice, a glowering look on his face. He knew she had been following him; he'd just been ignoring her. 'Stop following me, Granger,' he hissed, 'and don't call me that.'

She pointed her wand at his face, stepping closer, ignoring the fact he was deliberately calling her by her surname. They were only metres apart now. 'Why not?' she demanded. 'What is wrong with you?'

'What is wrong with me?' Draco repeated. 'Nothing is wrong with me, Granger; I just want you to go away.' He began to turn but Hermione thrust her wand further forwards.

'Move an inch and you'll be sorry,' she threatened, eyes blazing.

Draco's eyes widened slightly as he glanced at her weapon, but he managed to keep the scowl plastered on his face as he replied in a cold voice. 'You wouldn't.'

'Oh I think I would,' Hermione said. As she spoke, she noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye. To her surprise, she watched as the door to the Room of Requirement materialised before them. She wondered for a moment why on earth it had opened, as she hadn't walked past it three times thinking about what she needed. Then she shook her head as if to shake herself free of her thoughts. She shouldn't be concerned: it was open, that was what mattered. She gestured with her head towards the door that was now set into the wall beside them. 'Go in,' she ordered.

Glaring at her, Draco hesitated slightly before complying, stepping into the room. Hermione followed, keeping her wand trained on his back. As soon as the door swung shut behind them Draco turned to face her again as she dropped her bag by the entrance. She looked once round the room quickly before he could speak. It was completely bare. 'What do you want me to say Hermione?' he snapped, also discarding his bag. Hermione couldn't be sure, but she thought he sounded rather nervous. He'd started fidgeting the moment they'd walked into the room. But again, she didn't care. It didn't matter. She was angry.

'I want you to tell me what's wrong,' she yelled, letting her emotions flow from her like a crashing wave breaking against a cliff. 'You know, like we agreed. I can't help you if you're holding back on me.'

'I can't,' Draco yelled back. 'And I don't want your help. I don't want it because it's not helping. So just leave me alone! And stop following me.' His face was hard, absolute.

Hermione could feel tears threatening again, but they were tears of anger. She was so angry she felt as if she was Ron, trembling all over. 'No,' she said firmly. 'No, you don't get to do that. I know that's not the reason you're acting like you are- I know it's not as simple as that. So what is? Is it because I never came back to you after...' she trailed off, biting her lip. 'Is it Ron? Are you jealous of Ron?'

Draco's mouth gaped open as he stared at her, fumbling for the right words. 'What? Why would I be jealous of Weasley?'

'Because I saw your face in class,' she cried desperately, the hand that held her wand lowering slightly. Draco opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. He just stared at her in disbelief. Hermione barrelled on, unable to stop herself. 'Don't try to deny it. But...' she took a deep breath,' I know how you feel about me, Draco. And I think you know that I...' Her wand was by her side now. 'You know I can't just walk away and forget everything. It's too late for that.'

Draco took a step forwards, his eyes searching her face with a look of desperation that matched her own. 'Hermione, please don't do this. Please don't do this to me,' he begged fearfully, leaving Hermione slightly taken aback. 'Don't make this any harder than it already is. I want to keep seeing you, I really do, but I can't.'

Hermione was angry again. 'Why not?'

'Because,' Draco blurted, 'my father threatened to kill you.' He raked a hand through his hair wildly.

'What?'

'He threatened to kill you, Hermione... the night after you came to me. He told me that if I didn't stop seeing you, he would do something awful... He has spies here, in the castle, and they've been watching me. They saw us together,' Draco explained, his voice cracking. 'And I can't risk them seeing us together again.'

Hermione remained silent for a moment as she soaked up this new information. She realised that, shockingly, she was unsurprised. Of course Voldemort would have other spies inside Hogwarts, he always found a way in somehow. Making her decision, she threw her wand to one side and deliberately walked forwards until she was inches from Draco, taking his hands in her own. He looked down at them as she spoke. 'It's a risk I'm willing to take,' she said sincerely, her voice soft.

'No,' Draco moaned, still looking down, 'you can't.'

'Yes, I can,' Hermione said steadily. 'We can just meet in places less out in the open. We'll be more careful.'

'No,' Draco said again, a little louder this time. 'Don't you see? It's too dangerous. Hermione... if anything were to happen to you...' He lifted his head, looking deep into her eyes, 'I would never forgive myself.'

Hermione let out a long sigh. 'Nothing is going to happen to me, Draco. I can take care of myself.'

'Please...,' he murmured, an edge of hopelessness to his words. His blonde fringe, slightly waved again, flopped down over his forehead as he bowed his head once more, shielding his face.

'Hey,' Hermione said, pulling one of her hands from his so she could cup his chin, gently lifting his head. She brushed the hair out of his face to see Draco's eyes were shining with tears as she looked into them. 'I'm not going anywhere. I promise, just like all the other times I've promised you. Even if you don't want me to be here, I will be. I'm going to help you, Draco, no matter what, because I believe you don't need to be alone.'

Draco's shoulders slumped in defeat. 'It's too dangerous...' he said, almost mechanically. 'I'm too dangerous. This is on me, not you-'

'It's on me now too, remember?' Hermione said tenderly. 'I already know too much. And I'm not willing to give up.' She pulled her hands free from his. 'I know it's hard, but you shouldn't either. We'll stop this, together or not at all.' With that she turned to leave, but then Draco grabbed her hand, spinning her back to him.

Hermione found herself pressed right up against him. She could feel his chest rising and falling swiftly along with the hard thumping of his heart, beating in rhythm with hers. She looked at him for a second, a single second, and then her lips crushed against his. Hermione's eyes flickered shut as she slid her hand up his neck, drawing him down as she stood on her tiptoes, rising to meet him. At first it was painful as they forced themselves against one and other, not so much kissing as devouring each other. Draco's hands slid roughly down her back, tangling in her hair, fisting the loose fabric of her school uniform, his fingers like fire as they came in contact with her skin. His teeth grazed her bottom lip and she moaned, tilting her head to the side, opening her mouth to feel the rush of heat from his breath. Her hands gripped his hair so hard it must have hurt, but she didn't care.

Without thinking she began to shrug off her cloak, her mouth still glued to Draco's. He responded with a groan, his hands fumbling to help her remove the item of clothing. Once it was off she threw it to the side before helping Draco with his, kicking off her shoes in the process. They had to part briefly as they lifted off their jumpers and shirts, but as soon as the clothes were dumped Hermione's lips found his again, attacking them hungrily. Now only in a bra, a skirt and tights she felt shivers run up and down her body as Draco's hands ran down her bare skin, his touch like an electric shock.

She felt even more wondrous as she let her hands roam over his chest, the hard, flat planes of his stomach and the arched bone of his hip. She could feel their skin sizzling together as the heat of their passion grew even more intense. Hermione's fingers were now at the waistband of his trousers, circling the rim with a touch as light as a feather. Draco gave a low groan against her mouth in response; his hands finding hers and urging her on, assisting her pull them down and off. Then Hermione's skirt and tights were gone too, and they were both standing in their underwear, still pressed up against each other.

Draco moved his head down to her neck, placing butterfly kisses all the way down to the hollow of her throat, causing Hermione's heart to flutter every time. She tipped her head back in delight, when something caught her eye. 'Draco...' she murmured in a low voice.

He looked up at her, his stormy grey eyes so dark they looked black, his lips swollen. Silently he followed her gaze to the large bed that had appeared behind them. It was quite plain and simple, with a wooden frame and creamy silken sheets, but Hermione knew why it was there. She turned back to Draco, and their eyes locked in silent agreement. There was no stopping now- and even if she wanted too, she couldn't have. She needed this, her body was screaming for it.

'Draco,' she whispered again, clinging to him as he lifted her. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and dug her nails into his shoulders as he carried her over to the bed, practically throwing her onto it. He had seemed so gentle, so fragile when they had been together in the hospital wing. But now he was better, stronger, and he certainly wasn't holding back. Hermione was glad. The animal inside of her didn't want him to be gentle.

As she lay there, breathing hard, he scrambled on top of her so his whole body was covering hers. Her response was immediate and instinctive. Her body arched to meet his as she pulled on his shoulders, gasping. Their lips- like magnets- found each other again, and soon they were kissing, their tongues dancing in unison, their breaths mixing together as they melted against one and other.

Hermione moaned again as Draco moved lower, leaving her aching lips behind. He placed another trail of kisses over her body, this time down her chest, and on each jutting hip bone, and just below her belly button... Her heart thundered as he teased her, his teeth grazing against the elastic of her underwear. Then he came back up to meet her as she squirmed impatiently beneath him, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. As soon as his mouth was on hers again, Hermione shoved him sideways, climbing over to straddle his waist. She leaned down to nip Draco's lips playfully as they searched for hers. She moved her own lips to graze across his jaw, nuzzling against his cheek, her hair falling to tickle his shoulder.

'Hermione...' he whined, shivering in intimacy, drawing her down to meet him with a sharp tug, kissing her once more. She swallowed down the gasps he made against her mouth, twisting round him until they were no longer two separate people but a tangle of limbs, entwined together as one.

* * *

'I don't know how I'm going explain it this time,' Hermione said. 'Last time I actually arrived back in my dorm, but this time if I don't return at all, then...' she trailed off with a sigh, leaning back against Draco's shoulder. The two were lying in the bed in the Room of Requirement, the silky covers drawn up around them. Draco had one arm around Hermione's shoulders, hugging her too him, his free hand tracing shapes on her bare shoulder in contentment. Hermione had one hand pressed against his chest, spread over the space where she could feel the steady thumping of his heart. All their clothes and bags were strewn about the floor surrounding them; Hermione's wand flung somewhere over in the corner. It was early evening, but she had no intention of returning to her usual bed that night.

'Yeah, well, I've got to come up with a good excuse too,' Draco smiled, giving Hermione a gentle squeeze. 'But right now, I'm not worried.'

'Easy for you to say,' Hermione said, snuggling closer to him. 'I worry about everything.'

'And you think I don't?' Draco laughed softly. 'I also worry about everything, ever since...well, you know.'

'Yeah, I know,' Hermione breathed, turning her head, searching. Draco's lips met hers tenderly, kissing her softly. Her lips hurt after their extremely passionate endeavours, but she was well beyond caring. She didn't know if she'd ever been this happy. Right now she was glowing, lost in the moment, and she knew Draco was too. Right now, nothing else mattered.

She giggled, and a small crease appeared between Draco's eyebrows as he frowned. 'What?'

'Nothing,' Hermione said. 'It's just funny... I've never been this happy in so long.' She felt Draco smile against her hair before kissing the top of her head lightly.

'I'm glad you're happy, because I certainly am.' He paused. 'Hermione?'

'Yeah?'

'Can we just... forget about the rest of the world for the moment? I don't want to be worried or anything. I just want to enjoy every second of this.'

Hermione smiled again. Not only was her mouth sore, she now found the corners of them were throbbing from smiling so much. Unfortunately, this happened to make her smile even wider at the concept. She couldn't contain the joy that was radiating out of her as she lay in Draco's arms, the rest of the world forgotten. 'Deal,' she said.

* * *

 **Thanks for taking the time to read this. And don't worry, next chapter is already in the works, and will be up in around a weeks time. One last time, I am sorry about the wait. I hope it was worth it? :)**


	14. The Aftermath

**For once I am actually on time uploading a chapter... truly a Christmas miracle!**

 **Please feel free to review or provide any kind of feed back on this story so far- reviews are like Christmas presents to me, and I love hearing how people are responding to what I write. If you spot any grammatical mistakes, tell me (I hate spelling errors, but I know there will always be some)!**

 **I hope everyone had a good Christmas and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Happy reading...**

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14\. The Aftermath

When Hermione awoke, she didn't know where she was. The first thing she saw was a blank white wall facing her, and not the usual stone walls of her dormitory. Then, as she pulled herself free of the land of dreams, she noticed a pair of arms circling her. Someone was pressed up against her back, cradling her, breathing softly against her neck. She smiled: she remembered now.

Slowly, she detached herself from Draco, shifting under the sheets to face his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, his eyelids fluttering lightly with every calm breath, the blue veins sketched across them vivid against his pale complexion. She found herself thinking of Ron- about how he tended to snore like a pig and toss and turn fitfully. He was the complete opposite of Draco in that way. Draco slept silently, curling in on himself. His features were elegant- all sharp angles with a delicate poise- yet somewhat fragile. His thick, dark lashes cast long shadows over his white cheeks, almost like cracks in his skin, alluding to something breakable. His pale hair- also a whitish colour- was messy now, but it seemed to shimmer like the sun's rays against snow in the morning light. The only thing marring his image was the inky black symbol engraved forever like a tattoo upon his arm: the Dark Mark. Nevertheless he was beautiful, and he had always been beautiful, but Hermione had once tried to ignore that beauty by turning every feature into something unattractive in her mind, back when she had hated him. That seemed so long ago now.

She couldn't help but compare him to Ron again. They were so different. Draco, the ice prince, and Ron- the lion- with his broad shoulders, stocky build, shock of red hair, not to mention _that temper_... Hermione sighed, giving Draco one last lingering look before she pulled herself up and out of bed, stumbling around the sea of clothes before she eventually found her watch. She had a good hour until breakfast began. That was good: she didn't want to skip it again. She paused, wondering how she could wash, when she noticed for the first time a small door set against the opposite wall to the bed. Curious, she shrugged on the nearest cloak- which happened to be Draco's Slytherin one- and tried the handle.

She laughed to herself when she saw what was behind it: a small bathroom with a sink, mirror, everything. There was a shelf containing a pair of toothbrushes, toothpaste, combs, soaps and even a small clear bag of makeup. On a rail by the sink hung a couple of towels and flannels. Grinning, Hermione practically skipped into the room and began going through the motions, taking her time to get ready. When she looked in the mirror, for once she found that she wasn't disappointed. It was almost as if she was looking at a whole new person. Usually, on a morning, Hermione looked like an utter disaster. Today, however, she found that her usual frizzy hair, after a thorough brush, had fallen into glossy curls that hung to her shoulders. Her creamy white skin- a few shades darker than Draco's, but still pale- appeared to be glowing. Her big, chocolate-brown eyes were alight with fresh excitement, her lips redder than usual. She had even decided to wear a bit of the makeup (but not much- just a touch of mascara and lip gloss). She admired herself in the mirror, a new confidence growing. She would never admit it out loud, but… she thought she looked great.

With a smirk, she came out of the bathroom to see that Draco was just waking. He yawned, rubbing his eyes, before squinting up at her. 'Hermione?' he said, his voice still thick with sleep. 'What time is it?'

'Enough time to get ready before breakfast,' she answered as she began to sift through the piles of clothes, gathering up the items that belonged to her.

'Hey,' he said. 'Is that my robe?'

Hermione looked up at him and smiled cunningly. 'What do you think?' she said, giving him a twirl.

Draco eyed her hungrily. 'I think...' he said, chewing his lip in thought, 'you would make an excellent Slytherin.' He rolled over onto his front, propping an elbow up on the pillow and resting his chin in his hand. 'You look beautiful, by the way.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she pulled on her underwear. 'Well, that's what you were saying all last night. Over and over, if I remember correctly.'

'You do,' Draco told her with a lopsided smile. 'And if I remember correctly you were saying the same things about me.'

'Well, it's true,' Hermione said with a shrug, as if she were stating a well-known fact. She continued dressing as Draco continued to watch. 'You know,' she said uncertainly, 'that Ron thinks him and I are... well... dating. Right?'

Draco pouted. 'Yeah, I know. I kind of guessed that yesterday. What happened between you two?'

'Well...' Hermione began. She supposed she would have had to tell Draco about the Ron issue sooner or later, and now seemed like a perfectly acceptable time. 'Ron was on to us. He saw us talking after the prefect meeting that time, and then he got so close to figuring out the truth. We were arguing, and he was dangerously angry, a then something happened... I don't know, but I kissed him. I knew he was in love with me, so I tricked him into thinking...'

'Ok,' Draco said sharply. 'You don't have to explain anymore.' He looked slightly hurt, but there was also understanding in his eyes as he gazed at her. 'But... why didn't you tell me?'

Hermione sighed again, furrowing her brow. 'Oh, I don't know, Draco, but I thought I'd sorted it. And I didn't want to worry you.'

Draco sighed too. 'You know I want this help thing to work both ways. You help me, but I also want to help you. If you're having difficulty with your friends, I want to know about it.'

'I suppose that's fair,' Hermione said reasonably. 'In the future I promise to tell you everything, ok?'

'Ok,' Draco said with a nod. 'You make a lot of promises, don't you?'

'Yeah,' Hermione laughed. Then she stopped. 'Um... Draco?'

'Hmm?'

'If you know about Ron and I, then you'll also know that- when it's not just us- I'll have to be with him. I'll have to play my role. Trust me- I don't want to- but I have to, or else my friends will get suspicious. And, and I don't want you to think I feel for Ron in that way... no matter what I'm doing. Because I don't. And I can never tell them that I-'

'Was with me?' Draco interrupted. 'It's ok, Hermione. And you should know that if I'm ever... horrible to you again, that I don't mean it, either. I would never speak to you like that. And I swear- about yesterday- I... would never call you...' he gulped, '...that word. Ever again. I was just trying to make you hate me because I was scared of my father's threats. I still am.'

Hermione smiled sadly, wandering over to perch on the bed. Draco sat up straighter and she leaned in to kiss him. She understood why Draco had done what he did yesterday, even if it had hurt her at the time. She was sure she'd hurt him when he'd seen her with Ron. 'I forgive you,' she whispered as they parted. She looked down at her watch. 'And... I have to get to breakfast.'

'Ok...' Draco said reluctantly, giving her one last kiss before she stood up.

'Leave a good space of time before you leave,' she was saying as she reached for her bag and then her wand, pocketing it.

'What if I'm late?' Draco called after her retreating figure.

Hermione turned at the door, casting him a rueful smile. 'You're always late,' she said, before finally leaving, the door closing quietly behind her.

* * *

She couldn't help but notice the stares as she made her way to the Great Hall. Practically everyone she passed was staring at her. At first, she wondered if it was because she'd never gone back to the Gryffindor common room last night, but not everyone was a Gryffindor student, so it couldn't be that.

When she walked over to her usual place on the Gryffindor table, all of her friends were already there. She gulped and attempted to calm her nerves as she approached them. Ginny was the first to notice her, practically leaping to her feet the moment they made eye contact. _Here goes..._ Hermione thought.

'Hermione Jean Granger,' Ginny cried in a voice so loud Hermione was surprised it didn't grab the attention of the whole room. It was enough to alert the rest of her friends, though, who all turned towards her at the sound of her name. Ginny placed her hands on her hips, a gesture Mrs Weasley seemed to do a lot as well.

'Hi Ginny,' Hermione greeted meekly.

'Where on earth have you- oh my God you look amazing!' Ginny said, looking Hermione up and down with wide eyes, her expression changing from one of annoyance to one of amazement. 'What happened?'

'I-' Hermione said, completely stuck on what to say. She realised she had no idea how to explain herself, and it wasn't like she could just say oh hi everyone, I just slept with a Slytherin, no big deal. Especially not in front of Ron, who was looking at her with an odd expression, as if waiting for her to come up with a good enough excuse. Hermione took a deep breath, calming herself. 'I'm not really sure,' she said eventually.

Ginny frowned. 'How do you mean?'

'I-' Hermione began again, 'I woke up in library... I think I must have fallen asleep there after I went to study whilst Ron and Harry were in detention.'

'But we looked everywhere for you,' Harry piped up. 'Ginny checked the library. She said you weren't there.'

Hermione's heart plummeted. She was busted. What was she supposed to tell them now? She felt her face redden, damp sweat breaking out at the nape of her neck. She could practically feel the heat of Ron's gaze on her as his anger began to grow, and she could sense that everyone else was looking at her too, waiting for her to say something. But it was Ginny who spoke.

'I lied,' she said, and Hermione's head snapped up.

'What?' Harry said. 'Ginny-'

'I lied,' Ginny repeated, turning her back on Hermione to face the table so Hermione could no longer see her expression. 'Hermione was in the library, but she made me promise not to tell you guys.'

Hermione gaped at her friend's back. Where was Ginny going with this?

'Why would she do that?' Ron ground out in a level voice. Hermione could tell he was trying not to get angry, probably jumping to conclusions already.

'I can't tell you,' Ginny said plainly, earning an outraged look from Ron, and a confused one from Harry. Hermione remained silent, feeling utterly helpless. 'And don't give me such a look, Ronald,' Ginny ploughed on, turning on her brother. 'Believe me when I say you'll thank me for not telling you. No- Hermione isn't being unfaithful.' She paused dramatically. 'Quite the opposite.'

Hermione felt like giving Ginny the biggest hug in the world. It was a brilliant idea: Ginny had made it sound like Hermione had been planning something special for Ron. She decided to go along with the story. 'When Ginny found me I had to tell her what I was up to,' Hermione said. 'She wouldn't let me off the hook otherwise. Then she left, and I must have fallen asleep after a while. I went back to the dorm just before breakfast to get ready, but you were all already gone. And Ron, you should know, I made a special effort for you, to make up for all the secrecy. But trust me, it will be worth it.' She smiled gratefully at Ginny, who just gave her a meaningful look. Then she smiled at Ron, who beamed back. Problem solved.

Breakfast went by quickly after that. Students had just begun helping themselves to food when Draco entered the Great Hall, dramatically flinging the doors open just like he always did. He was late, but barely. Hermione watched as he stalked over to the Slytherin table with his usual brooding expression. She saw his friends gather round him, trying to talk to him, but he waved them away with a flick of his wrist. Clearly he was going for the 'I don't want to talk about it' kind of excuse. His act was pretty convincing- he didn't look happy at all- and Hermione wondered for a moment if he might be having second thoughts about what had happened. Then he looked up to meet her gaze. Their eyes held only for a second, but in that second Hermione knew everything was ok.

There was one issue, however: now she had to plan something special for Ron. She was annoyed about that- Ron didn't deserve anything special after the way he'd been treating her over the past couple of weeks, but she'd rather have this than the alternative.

* * *

Ginny found her on the way to Herbology. 'We need to talk,' she said.

Hermione nodded. 'Ok, now is as good as ever. But Ginny, before we do, I just wanted to thank you for what you did.' She smiled sadly. 'You're truly a great friend.'

'I know I am,' Ginny said with a grin. 'But you'd better give me a good reason for lying to our friends. I did this for you, and now I deserve the truth, don't you think?'

Hermione stared out in front of her with a sigh. 'It's not that simple,' she said after a brief silence. 'And I wish I could tell you, Ginny, I really do but... It's complicated.'

Without looking, she heard Ginny let out a slow breath. 'Complicated how?' her friend asked.

'I don't know where to start,' Hermione admitted. They'd made it to Herbology now, but they were slightly early, so the two made their way over to an empty corner to continue their talk.

Ginny stepped round to face her, her arms folded. She drummed her fingers against her sleeve. 'How about you start with what you were doing last night?' she suggested.

'That's probably not a good idea,' Hermione said with another sigh. That was the most complicated part of all, and not even she fully understood all that had happened.

'Ok then,' Ginny said, a little frustration lacing into her words. 'Well, let's start with this. I know something's been going on. And it's been going on for a while. You keep on disappearing: the first night back, that time in Hogsmeade, last week when you came back really late. All your excuses... they're all lies, aren't they?'

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes. She knew Ginny was trying her best to remain unperturbed, but it was impossible to miss the hurt in her voice. 'Yes,' she said.

'So when you said you were doing those things for Ron, it wasn't true?'

'That's right,' Hermione said apologetically. 'It was all a lie.'

Ginny pressed her lips together. 'Do you even love my brother? Or is that a lie too?'

Hermione shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. 'I'm sorry,' she sobbed, her lower lip trembling. 'I'm such an awful person.'

'No, you're not,' Ginny said sternly, and before Hermione could react she stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. 'If anything you're the opposite of awful. I know you, Hermione. You wouldn't do something like this unless you really had to.'

Hermione buried her head into Ginny's shoulder as she wept. 'I did it to protect a secret,' she explained with a sniff, finally calming down. 'Oh, Ginny, I wish I could tell you. You don't know how much I want to. But you can't know- no one knows. And it has to stay that way, or else it could ruin everything.'

Ginny detached herself from Hermione and held the girl at arm's length, eyeing her carefully. 'Does this have something to do with a certain Slytherin?' she enquired.

Hermione looked away. 'I can't tell you. Ginny, I really can't tell you anything. It's important, that's all I can say. I wouldn't be doing any of this unless it was important.'

Ginny clicked her tongue. 'Is it dangerous?'

Hermione paused before answering. 'Yes,' she said quietly. 'It's very dangerous.'

'Oh, Hermione,' Ginny said, hugging her again, squeezing her tightly. Hermione squeezed her back, wrapping her arms tightly around her friend's, wishing she never had to let go. 'Be careful,' Ginny ordered, speaking into her ear. 'Whatever it is you've got yourself into. Promise me you'll be careful?'

'I promise,' Hermione said, tightening her hold. 'Thank you for being such a good friend. You're... you're truly amazing. You really, really are.'

'I just worry about you,' Ginny confessed. 'We all do. Including Ron, even when it doesn't seem like it. Just... I hope- for your sake- you know what you're doing. All the lies and secrecy better be worth it.'

'I hope so too,' Hermione said. Over Ginny's shoulder she could see students beginning to enter the classroom, indicating that lessons were about to start. When Ginny started to pull away she spoke quickly. 'You won't tell anyone will you? You won't tell Ron or Harry?'

Ginny hitched her bag over her shoulder and shook her long sheet of ginger hair behind her. 'No, Hermione, I won't.' She began to back away down the corridor. 'I've got to get to my lesson.'

'Sure. And like I said, Ginny, you're amazing,' she finished with a smile that was slightly off.

'I know I am,' Ginny grinned, turning away. 'Be careful, you dimwit,' she called back over her shoulder. Then she was gone.

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. As she headed to Herbology, she felt a mix of relief and angst stirring up inside her. On the one hand, it looked as if- for the moment- she wouldn't have to worry about her friends finding out about her secret. On the other, the fact that Ginny now knew she was lying, even if she didn't know what about, made her situation a lot worse. She was letting down one of her best friends, one of the people closest to her, and that came with an awful lot of guilt. Like Ginny had said, she hoped with all her might that it was worth it.

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 **Next chapter coming soon... Please review if you have the time!**


	15. Snape's Storeroom

**Happy New Year! My first post of 2017! I just want to say, this isn't a very long chapter, but it does lead a nice pathway into the next chapter, and I'm planning for things to start picking up action-wise very shortly...**

 **As always, hope you enjoy it and happy reading. Don't forget to review :)**

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Draco had been in Herbology, but for some reason Hermione had barely been able to look at him. Maybe it was her conversation with Ginny (and the unbelievable amount of guilt she felt) that was affecting her actions. Whatever the case, whenever he had caught her eye and tried to smile, she'd averted her gaze. The memory of what they had done last night in the Room of Requirement was becoming a more prominent focus in her mind. She was beginning to ask herself questions about it, and now it was causing some self-doubt to start festering inside of her. What had she been thinking, sleeping with Draco? Were they _trying_ to get themselves caught?

Yes, it had felt right. Yes, it had probably been one of the most wonderful experiences of her life. But that didn't mean it was acceptable. Her emotions were already a mess. She didn't know what to think any more: about right or wrong, her morals, what she was doing, what she was risking, how it affected her life and the people she cared about... On top of everything, what she didn't need was to be in love with the person she was trying to help. Apparently this was called being 'emotionally compromised'. Now, any actions she took in the future could be potentially disastrous because of her feelings for Draco. They might cause her to act irrationally- she could get them caught, for crying out loud. It was bad enough that Lucius Malfoy had threatened to _kill her_ when they were sneaking around beforehand, back when they hadn't developed any strong attractions. Now, they were sneaking around and doing other, more intimate things, and the chances of being found out were even higher.

Hermione thought about this as she wandered over to the library after class ended. She wondered if Draco might have wanted to meet with her, then she squashed the idea. No, meeting with him was very bad, because he was probably going to persuade her otherwise. She needed to be away from him, she needed space to mull things over. And what she didn't need was to be sucked right back into a relationship that couldn't happen.

Wrapped in her own mind, she failed to acknowledge the quick footsteps growing ever closer behind her. She didn't even have time to scream when two arms circled round her waist and pulled her backwards. All she could do was gasp as she was dragged into what looked like a store cupboard stacked full of shelves and shelves of potions. She was all but ready to whip her wand out and start firing spells when she felt a soft kiss placed on her neck.

'Draco?' she breathed in relief. For a moment she had been terrified. 'You scared me.'

'Sorry,' came the familiar voice, his breath tickling her ear and ruffling her hair. He didn't sound sorry at all.

Hermione managed to turn around within the confinements of his arms to face him. He was smiling that lopsided smile that made her heart want to melt. She had to do everything in her power not to kiss him right there and then. 'Draco,' she repeated, 'what are you doing?'

'I wanted to see you,' Draco replied happily. 'I couldn't wait any longer… What?' he added when he noticed Hermione's expression. 'What's wrong?'

She gulped. 'We can't do this,' she hissed under her breath, well aware that anyone could walk past the room and hear them. 'It's too risky.'

Draco cocked an eyebrow. 'Say's the girl who told me she was willing to take that risk.'

Hermione sighed in exasperation. 'I'm willing to help you, Draco. But we can't keep doing...' she waved her hand vaguely between the two of them, 'whatever this is.'

'Why not?' Draco asked. 'Don't you want to?'

'I do!' Hermione said adamantly. 'You know I do. But... I don't know- it's just too much right now. Things are getting too complicated and I can't think straight.'

Draco looked at her, his eyes silvery in the dim light. 'Then don't think.'

'Draco...' Hermione began, but he was already kissing her. At first she tried to resist, flattening her hands against Draco's shoulders and trying to shove him away. But if anything he was persistent, only kissing her more, his arms coming up to cup her head in his hands as he deepened the kiss. Hermione heard herself hum in response, moving her hands to his back, her fingers brushing against the soft hair at his neck. It was like she couldn't fight it. Draco was infecting her, and the infection was spreading all over. Her whole body responded to every move he made, her heart pounding wildly.

'This is a bad idea,' she whispered huskily against his mouth as they parted for breath.

'Hmmm,' Draco responded as he drew her back in again, keeping his eyes closed.

'Draco,' Hermione urged him. She couldn't stop it- she didn't have the strength to. She needed _him_ to stop for her, to push her away, before it was too late... But it was already too late.

'Stop thinking,' he said, his mouth brushing against her upper lip. His voice was rough, his breathing harsh. He lifted a hand and stroked her cheek tenderly, looking at her through lowered lids. 'And start listening,' his other hand touched the spot where her heart was, '...to this.'

Hermione looked back at him for a moment, her eyes never leaving his as her hands moved up to twist themselves into his hair. Then she did as she was told, shaking off every last piece of doubt and allowing her mouth to latch onto his. Finally, she was flying, her senses soaring, her body on fire as she grinded against Draco's equally responsive form. She forced him backwards so he was up against the shelves surrounding them, that rattled alarmingly as the two fell against them with little awareness.

Draco flipped, so that it was now Hermione who was against the wall, the flat edges of wood digging into her back. Draco gripped the shelf either side of her, holding it still and bracing against it as Hermione slid cold hands beneath his clothes, causing him to gasp. He threw his head back...

'Who's in there?'

Draco froze, and Hermione withdrew her hands quickly. They both looked at each other in terror. Someone rattled the door in an attempt to open it.

'I said who's in there?' the voice came again. Draco began to back away, a hand over his mouth to quieten his breaths.

'Snape,' Hermione mouthed.

Draco nodded. 'It's his storeroom,' he mouthed back, after lifting his hand away.

'Open this door now,' Snape demanded from outside, his voice growing impatient.

'Follow my lead,' Hermione hissed, a plan forming in her head. Draco just stared at her as she said aloud, 'for god's sake Malfoy, hand me the bloody potion. I can't reach it- I'm not tall enough- so you'll have to do it.'

Draco blinked once, then his face lit up in realisation. 'Well then, Granger, stop talking nonsense and tell me which one it is,' he practically shouted.

'Open this door!' Snape roared.

Hermione raised her voice too. 'I already have, you idiot,' she yelled, just as Snape appeared to have had enough, blowing the door open to reveal the two students inside.

Hermione had already gathered a random stash of potions and was balancing them in both arms. Snape stood in the doorway, a look of surprise crossing his face before his expression hardened. 'What is going on here?' he asked coldly.

'It's for Professor Slughorn, sir,' Hermione said. 'He wants us to get the ingredients for Amortentia.' She looked at Draco as if he was as thick as thieves, 'you know, the love potion.'

'I know what Amortentia is, Granger,' Draco fired in response, mustering up his best glare to aim at her.

'Enough,' Snape ordered, his eyes like black beetles as he looked disapprovingly upon the two students. He moved to the side and gestured to the corridor. 'Get out, now.'

Hermione open her mouth to argue. 'But sir-'

' _Now_ ,' Snape said again through gritted teeth.

This time, Hermione didn't try to talk back, bowing her head and shuffling out of the storeroom, still clutching her armful of potions. She knew if she persisted it would only end in a detention- it was Snape, after all. As soon as she was in the corridor he turned to her, flicking his wand and causing all she was carrying to shoot back onto their respective shelves. Hermione glanced down at her now empty arms, perplexed.

Draco, who had been standing by, made his way to leave the room as well, but Snape flung his hand out to prevent him. 'A word, Mr Malfoy,' he said in a voice that sounded almost bored. But there was something else too, an underlying tone to his voice both Hermione and Draco couldn't grasp.

Hermione stepped forward again. 'Sir... Professor Slughorn would really-'

Again, Snape cut her off, whirling back around. 'Miss Granger,' he said, 'kindly inform Professor Slughorn that if he wishes to raid my supplies next time he should come to me first. And tell him it's probably best not to send students to do his dirty work, especially not insufferable know-it-alls.' He turned away again. 'Now, please be on your way. And Mr Malfoy, follow me to my office.'

Hermione could only gape as Snape swept past her, Draco trailing behind him. She cast him a worried glance as he walked away, earning an encouraging smile back. She smiled anxiously, her eyes never leaving his until he turned the corner and was gone from sight.

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Snape's office was a gloomy and dimly-lit room located in the school dungeons, not far from the entrance to the Slytherin common room, so Draco was familiar with the route there. What he wasn't familiar with was the growing sense of unease he felt walking through the corridors he had made his way down so many times before. It was eerily quiet as Snape continued to march in front of him, whispers of sound coming from the swish of his billowing black cloak and the distant echoes of far off voices. Despite the air being thick and humid, Draco caught himself shivering as he hurried along. Something definitely felt off, and he was sure it had something to do with why Snape wished to see him.

He had been to Snape's office before- many times, in fact- but when he entered the room and looked around the place seemed alien to him. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars filled with slimy, revolting things such as bits of animals and plants suspended in liquids of varying colours. The dust that coated every jar acted as a murky film, making it difficult to determine the grotesque shapes lying behind the years of neglect. The office had a fireplace, but it looked ancient and crumbling and most certainly unused. In the corner there was a cupboard boarded up with more locks than Draco could count, cobwebs ensnaring every rusted chain. There was a simple chair and a desk by the back wall, a single piece of parchment, an ink pot and a quill the only objects adorning the surface. And the single light hanging from the centre of the ceiling hung like a limp body, casting only the faintest green glow that didn't even reach the very corners of the room.

Draco folded his arms to his chest, suppressing another shiver. The air outside was stuffy, but in here it was freezing. He heard a small click behind him, indicating that Snape had locked the door. Gulping, he tried not to take it as a bad sign.

'Could you be any more stupid, Malfoy?' Snape asked in a levelled voice, as he came to stand before Draco. His expression was as unyielding as ever, and at first Draco didn't have the faintest idea what he meant.

'Professor, I'm not sure what you mean.'

'Oh, don't play the fool with me, boy,' Snape said callously. 'I could hear you and Miss Granger from halfway down the corridor.' Seeing Draco's horrified expression, he added: 'oh, and I think it was worse for me than you. Trust me; I really didn't want to hear it.'

Draco stood frozen for a moment, trying to gather the pieces of his shattered mind. 'Professor...' he said faintly, not really knowing what he was going to say.

Snape held up a hand for silence. 'I assume you didn't take heed of your father's warning?'

Draco's vision swam. 'What?'

Snape pursed his lips and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. Slowly, he peeled back the sleeve of his cloak to reveal something that caused Draco to feel a sudden nausea. Snape possessed the Dark Mark- it was there for him to see in plain sight, the inky black symbol embedded on the left forearm, as vivid and menacing as his own.

'I'm told,' Snape said, rolling his sleeve back down, 'I'm supposed to report my findings back to Lucius. I've been watching you closely all year.'

'You've been following me?' Draco said angrily.

'Those was my orders, yes.'

'How much do you know?' he persisted, furious that his privacy had been violated. He was pretty sure Snape must know a fair amount if he had been watching him from day one. He probably knew about the tower, and every meeting he'd had with Hermione. But if he had, why hadn't he reported it sooner?

'I know enough,' Snape answered, drawing his face up to Draco's. 'You have to get rid of her.'

Draco, in his rage, shoved the professor backwards. 'No,' he cried. 'I won't.'

Snape pushed back the greasy black strands of hair that had fallen in his eyes, advancing on Draco. 'You stupid boy,' he said, grabbing Draco's collar with both hands and shoving him against the wall. 'You are putting her in danger.'

Draco's eyes widened. 'Since when did you care about Hermione?' he asked in surprise. He had been expecting a threat, yes, but not a warning.

Snape took a step backwards, releasing his grip on Draco. 'Miss Granger is not my enemy.'

Draco moved slowly away from the wall, adjusting his collar. 'What are you saying?'

'I'm saying you have to make a choice. There are only two ways this can end. Get rid of the girl, and do what you are supposed to do, or suffer the consequences,' Snape said darkly, his beaded eyes boring right into Draco's, making him squirm under the unnerving gaze.

He looked quickly away, sounding almost pained as he spoke. 'I can't do that,' he said, his voice cracking. 'And I won't.' He looked up again, lifting his chin defiantly. 'She wouldn't let me anyway.'

Snape sighed. 'Then watch her die,' he said. 'Or, suffer a fate much worse than death. It's your decision.'

'That's not the only option,' Draco replied, his voice shaking. 'I won't let that happen to her, I'll protect her.'

'You think you can protect her from the Dark Lord?' Snape laughed coldly. 'I pity you, boy. Love has made you foolish and irrational. There is no way she can survive this.'

Draco shook his head. 'Yes there is,' he said firmly. 'If no one finds out-'

'Oh, but they will,' Snape said. 'As soon as I tell your father. And if he doesn't do anything about it... well... then I'll go straight to the Dark Lord myself.'

Draco gasped. 'But you wouldn't do that,' he spluttered. 'You- you said she wasn't your enemy. You said-'

'Enough,' Snape cut in, holding his hand up again. 'The deal is this: either you stop seeing Miss Granger, or I go to your father. Your choice.'

'I can't,' Draco said desperately. He could feel tears pricking his eyes.

'She deserves a good life, don't you think? There is no good life for you, Draco, not with her. You will ruin her.'

'I can't,' Draco said again, a single tear spilling over his cheek. He felt his knees go weak, almost giving way as his whole body shook. 'I can't,' he repeated, trying to make Snape understand what he couldn't say with words.

Snape nodded slowly, looking displeased. 'Then I have no choice.'

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 **Next chapter coming soon...**


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